Woah, Woah, Woah. I had not expected this kind of response.
But as it happens, you are all lovely, wonderful people. Your reviews are partially addressed at the end of this chapter. But I will still drop PMs with specific details if I feel that the fic is not going to address it.
A very merry Christmas to everybody. Flipped should also get an update in a few hours. I am just finetuning the chapter.
Read on:
Rhaegar II
It is in the afternoon when he gets a message from his guest, Azalea.
'Rhaegar of house Targaryen,
I need books. All of them.
Azalea Sage"*
He supposes that she wants to know more about the world she has landed in. He is surprised at the resilience. It took her but few hours to try and accommodate to the situation.
She did not rage or cry or curse or fight or deny.
He gives her leave to use the library and passes books from his personal collection: of history and politics and old Valyria.
The Maester hounds him the next day.
Apparently, the lady refuses to come out of the library. For food, for water, for sleep, for her tonics.
So, he gives in to the temptation that he had been resisting for the last few hours in light of the work from the capital and seeks her out.
She has changed into another set of clothes; a loose pair of breeches and a very loose tunic on it. She drowns in them but still manages to look captivating.
He sits in front of her without invitation.
"What can I do for you, Prince Rhaegar?" She asks, using his title this time, looking up only after a moment.
And his speculations come true. She had been learning more about the world she was in.
"You can tell me about yourself." It slips out before his brain could supply the more practical bits about her eating habits.
"If you tell me about yourself," She challenges. He nods.
She tells him things: of her friends and family. She makes references to things he does not understand.
He tells her things. She understands more references than he did, not particularly surprising in light of the headway she has made with the books.
But they relate to each other.
She does not treat him any different for being a Prince except using his title occasionally.
'My parents do not love each other." He tells her, the confession spilling out to this strange woman. He could never openly say it to anyone because of duties and treason.
"Mine loved each other but did not live long enough to cherish it." She tells him.
He talks about the burden of royalty and she talks about the burden of being a savior.
Call me Azalea
Call me Rhaegar
He talks about the fear of losing people and she talks about the hole that losing people has left.
Even without the world travel, she has lost more people than he can imagine. Her parents, godparents, friends, mentors, surrogate family, comrades.
Suddenly, her words from the previous day from losing parts come back, "I am always losing them."
He has the strangest urge to wrap his arms around her and stop her from hurting because it is clear that she is hurting. Her resilience is admirable but he cannot help but feel that he should try to help her.
The pattern lasts a week and Rhaegar gets several harried ravens telling him that his father burned two children alive.
He had to go back to temper his fathers' madness. There was no question of it. He loathes the idea of leaving Azalea behind but he is even more afraid of what his father would do to her if he takes her along.
She reads him like an open book and asks why he is sulking.
He decides to tell her the truth of the mad king.
"Schizophrenia," She murmurs. He makes a confused noise.
"He is traumatized by what happened in Duskendale and it has resulted in his paranoia. He needs mood dampeners." She informs.
And then he tells her about the children. Her eyes blaze but she does not say anything.
"I need to go," He tells her about his wish to have her there but admits his fear.
"I will come. We will tell him the truth of my Valyrian roots and claim amnesia after an attack. I remember skills, not people or places." She says.
"He will try to get you married to me," He informs her.
"He is welcome to try," She snorts.
Rhaegar would not admit aloud but a part of him is hurt by her reaction. He wants her; he is fond of her, perhaps more than fond of her. That she would not even consider the match a possibility and treats it with such contempt, does not settle well with him.
"What will you do then? Find a noble lord or begin a matrilineal line like Gwenyth…" He asks. He is sure his hurt and irritation is apparent in the line of questioning.
"I am coming to be your advisor and protector, Rhaegar. Marriage is not on priority. I do not do well with men trying to lord me. Your King father will have trouble trying to force his will in any form on me. I do not yield." She rolls her eyes.
And suddenly, he gets it. It is not marriage to him, but an order of marriage that she is bothered about. He suddenly feels better about things.
"My protector…" He muses with some amusement but gives her a worried look, "He has guards, Azalea who are honor bound to serve him despite knowing how cruel or wrong his actions or commands are. If you defy him, there will be consequences."
"Those blades were not for aesthetics. I can defend myself very well even without magic. And if I sense a pattern, he is going to try and burn me…But he won't because he would want my Valyrian blood to infuse with your family. We will have to make a convincing backstory. I think I can toe the lines carefully to maintain my autonomy and give him what he wants."
"There will be other factions. You will gain enemies merely because king wants you in the royal line."
"I have no love for the game of politics but I think I play it fairly well." She says lightly.
He is still torn.
She comes near him, takes his palms, softly squeezing them, giving him this imploring look with her eyes, "Have some faith in me."
She had touched him out of her own volition. Women do not do that in Westeros but Rhaegar cannot bring himself to care, for her hands are warm and soft as they hold his. He never wants to let go.
He finally relents.
So they prepared and plotted.
He tells her about the summer hall tragedy, the prophecy of Daenerys the dreamer, the song of ice and fire, and the dynastic desire to hatch dragons and the madness that came.
She had grimaced at the prophecy.
"Horrid things...self-fulfilling in weird ways. And very capable of destroying decades of time and millions of people."
"You had prophecies?"
"Several. Most did not come to pass. I saw two that came into being."
"We need this one to pass. We need the Prince that was promised."
"Are you sure you want to pass that moniker on to a descendent? It is a difficult thing, carrying such a burden." Her voice had empathy.
He argues passionately for it.
She just sighs, "I am not denying the greater good, Rhaegar. I am just saying that a person might want to be a person before you decree them a pawn in a tale as old as this."
He gave her a questioning look. Her dejection is personal.
"I suppose I was the Prince that was promised for my land. The chosen one, the girl who lived, the conqueror... I was raised to fulfill a destiny. It was not pretty. I am not saying that saving the world is not important but don't let it rule so much of your lives."
He is moved by her words and is not sure of the tragedy of her life is something that he would wish on anyone. But hatching dragons is not so simple. It will take time and research
She tells him, it wouldn't.
She drags him into the trunk, which is like a house or a small keep.
He is given a book on beasts and he finds so many breeds of dragons in it.
They look like Valyrian dragons and he tells her so. Only they had different names.
Three heads of dragons, if only his ancestors had not been foolish.
"Are you sure it has to be three heads?" There is a certain patronizing lilt in her question.
So, he replies back haughtily that yes it must.
"Are you sure 21 will not do?" She asks him sardonically.
He is about to protest vehemently when he realizes the number she spoke.
When he gives her a look of befuddlement, he is taken to an inner sanctum with living 21 eggs.
There are 10 mating pairs and one hybrid egg.
All under a stasis charm which will fall as soon as she touches them.
She has books on breeding and taming dragons.
She is open to letting them hatch if they are taken care of.
It takes every ounce of Rhaegar's composure to not kiss her full on the mouth or to hold her and never let go.
He does raise his hands and she raises hers to meet his, their fingers entwine.
His eyes do the talking, "I don't know what to say."
She has a knowing, empathetic smile.
"You care for the dragons," He asks after a comfortable silence.
"I was acquainted with a few. They saved my life as I saved theirs..." She nearly trails off in wonder at the end.
After a minute, she asks him to repeat how he found her.
"Was there impact on the soil?"
He shakes his head.
"And I did not even break bones falling from a height. I was dropped there..." There is an excitement in her voice.
There was nobody there, though.
"Are there caves there, big ones?"
He nods.
"Take me there!"
It is a little after midnight and when he means to call the guards, she stops him.
It would not be appropriate of them to wander without a chaperone on the shore. But she seems adamant.
"We will sneak out. Are you telling me there are no secret passages here? Or that you don't know any?"
He gives in.
They both wear cloaks and slink away in the night with a torch.
When they reached the caves in question, the size of the entrance just added to Azalea's enthusiasm and she literally charged in.
She was observing the walls as she flicked the torch and something in them satisfied them.
Rhaegar was getting a bit frustrated at the lack of information and probably due to her theory of a fellow traveler.
He was sure this was an exercise in futile until he saw the light of a large fire appear and disappear in one of the inner turns.
"Valor," She called out, took his hand, handed him the torch and rushed ahead.
Rhaegar followed but he could not match her pace.
He would remember that moment forever. At first sight, it seemed that Azalea was standing beside a large black rock.
He only noted otherwise, when a slit opened in the rock and purple eyes stared back at him, and then he saw the Dragon's head.
"Rhaegar, meet Valor, my trusted friend, who was defending me as I fought my adversaries and who probably tried to prevent me from being sucked into whatever brought me here but was dragged right alongside me."
After Rhaegar was over the shock of seeing a live dragon, he contracted her enthusiasm of being with Valor.
He discovered that she could talk to dragons, a skill from Serpens and Gwenyth and had saved this one's life when she was 14. Apparently, Valor had been a babe and had imprinted on her and never really left her side too often.
He was small yet, one because he was a male and two, because he was young.
In Rhaegar's mind, he was still no less impressive. Though, he was a little startled to realize that Azalea was still the most impressive out of everything and everyone.
The Dragon thanked him for saving Azalea which Azalea translated for him. Thank him of all things!
Azalea was the tide that would change the fate of the realm. Things were already so hopeful, the long night, everything.
Valor would tell them that he had heard stories about dragons and magic coming from another world to Azalea's world.
And when he would exclaim in high valyrian. She would understand his exclamation.
And then they would realize that she could understand high Valyrian. Only she knew it simply as the Valyrian word for mother tongue 'Muna engos'. Apparently, there was a clan of people who were Valyrian legacies in her place whom she had spent time with and learned of all about Valyrina tongue and rituals. Only she did not know the word Valyria or the history of it.
She could speak and write in Valyrian. This made their deception more believable. He had thought that he would have to teach her a few phrases to enable a compelling act and have to rely on the lie of a loss of memory for everything else.
But this solved everything.
So, they hatched the plan.
Valor flew away to live on an unoccupied small island off Dragonstone that Rhaegar would direct him to for this safety. Apparently, Azalea could call him when needed anyway through their bond.
He would be their contingency should anything go wrong.
Another impromptu plan surfaced then. They could not very well tell people of Azalea's magical trunk. But they needed things within it.
If Azalea was to be accepted as a Valyrian noble, she had to look the part. She had a perfectly nice, noble wardrobe that would put his mother's to shame and she had more weaponry, her precious bow, a lot of medicinal things she called potions and herbs and books on healing and herbs.
The other books of magic and dragons would need to remain hidden so that people did not suspect anything. They would remain in the magical trunk disguised as a tedious-to-open jewelry box.
But others could come out.
So, they proceeded to pull out a dozen trunks (with something called a featherlight charm) onto the surface of the cave and spread them like a wreck. The charm only worked for her, so everyone else would have to do hard labor.
And they again entered the keep in the night and reached their respective bedchambers right before dawn.
Whent easily found the caves and the trunks when he asked for a more thorough research because it was simply not right that their guest suffered about not knowing much about herself.
Carts transported everything.
The jewelry had sigils of Gwenyth and Peverall and he proclaimed her a Valyrian legacy in front of the Kingsguard.
The story or speculation went that she had been a victim of an enchantment where she had forgotten portions of her identity and personal history. She remembered her name and she remembered her skills of healing and politics and strategy and if it came out, fighting.
That was the cover and since it was mere speculation and there was no record or living memory of an Azalea anywhere, it was as solid as it could get.
"So, Dorne did not fall to Dragons," She quietly asked. She mostly knew the recent history and all the family trees. He was just filling in the gaps and answering the questions.
"No, it did not. But we annexed it later at great losses. The negotiation and resistance to fall still gives them some superiority over others. That is why they still have royal titles. The current ruling Princess has 3 children, Doran, Oberyn and Elia. There is a chance that my father would want a marital alliance between us considering he thinks Valyrian blood is dead and the last intermarriage was with Martells and Baratheons. The latter do not have a daughter."
"Will they partake in a Great Council and be in your favor?"
"Everyone who is not on the small council will be in my favor." Rhaegar murmured back, "Tywin Lannister can be swayed but he would want me to take his daughter Cersei's hand."
"Two marital alliances…with Lions and snakes?"
"I barely know them. Cersei is an entitled banshee; Elia Martell is a fine seductress if I ever saw one."
Azalea would only hmm and go ahead.
"Arryn would side with you?"
"Their darned honor would be problematic but as father is dishonoring his role as a protector, they could be swayed with words of righteousness. Starks too. Northerners are prideful but dutiful. Lord Tully will follow the lead of Vale and North as he is marrying his daughter to the eldest stark."
"Reach seemed loyal to Targaryen and you are a saner one?" She asked.
"Olenna Tyrell is ambitious, as ambitious as Tywin but she can be reasoned with as she values family above the family name. We have to convince her that I am the better option for her children and grandchildren's continued existence. Her son will follow her lead. Thankfully, she likes me well enough."
"Storm's end is tricky. Steffon was father's friend and Robert Baratheon all but blames the entire dynasty for the sunken ship from what I have heard."
"And yet he is a ward of Arryn alongside the second born of Rickard Stark?"
"He is," Rhaegar nodded.
"We need to win over the Starks and Arryn, Baratheons and Tully will follow. Robert will not go against Arryn and his foster brother especially if it means deposing your father. If we can convince him that your father is to blame, it would work. I also think we should maintain better relations with Stannis, who is the heir apparent until Robert sires a child. If he is as impulsive and drunkard as they say, he might go to an early grave. Perhaps you could write to Stannis as your cousin?"
"What do we give to Tywin Lannister? That man has gold and more military might…"
"He would not be sentimental enough to want revenge for what your father did to Joana Lannister" She confirmed.
They stay silent for a few minutes as they contemplate and strategize and play the game of thrones in their head.
"We play Dorne and Casterly Rock. We make them hope for the possibility of a possible alliance but do not give your word." She says after a few minutes.
And when he gestures her to elaborate despite his reservations, she lays down a strategy that he finds himself hard-pressed to resist: mostly because of her first statement.
"Your father will want my hand for you and I will not deny it." She says. Hope and happiness stirs in Rhaegar's heart.
"I will just stall him for as long as we need to depose him." She completes and it is like something has doused the fire inside him with iced water.
"Dorne and Casterly Rock would be busy getting a measure of me and my relationship with you and trying to thwart your father's decision on me. They cannot directly question you if it is the question of preserving Valyrian bloodlines but they can and will try to charm you and garner your favor if they believe you to be unhappy with a union with me. When you meet them and if they touch it, all you have to say is that you do not agree with the decision he has made for your life but you have to think of the realm and your legacy, which is vague enough to be rather true. You can have a pick when your sire is deposed of his throne."
This whole scheme was to give him a choice but Rhaegar could not agree, "They will be out for your blood."
"I can handle myself," She murmured, "And I have a dragon."
"Who will not be with you!" Rhaegar pointed out.
"I have had a dark lord hunt me for most my life, I think I can handle overzealous nobles. Moreover, I was hoping to distract your father with my presence. If my presence gives him a mystery to solve, he would be less inclined to torment others which might delay their actions against me…"
"It will not work for very long." Rhaegar shook his head.
She snorted, "It won't, yes. But from what I know of your father, we would be revealing Valor way before the Great council. That gives me protection and you a reason to thwart any courtship. You can just say you need the girl with the dragon and her loyalty in very disparaging ways…"
Rhaegar stilled. He did not like the deprecating way in which she referred to herself, but he knew that if this was a game of Cywasse, then Azalea had already won. It not only bought him time with Dorne and Westerlands but it also gave him enough time to woo her.
* Full credits of the wording of the letter to Vespairty and her fic PUSH AND PULL. I have never laughed as hard as I did when I read this in that fic. You should check it out.
Notes/Clarifications on the fic:
1) This is a lighter fic than Flipped. In tone, as well as details. So, not canon typical writing or violence.
2) Regarding Azalea's magic (a lot of you were worried or angsty about it): She cannot do intentional magic. Sorry, that is going to stay. Because I have finished writing a complete arc of this fic and plotted well beyond it.
She will still be able to use exisiting enchantments (her trunk is like the Flipped trunk). She will be able to do rituals. She will also be able to make potions (pending the ingredients).
3) Just in case, people have not realized it: Azalea lived a different life than Canon Harry. She is secretive and somber. She is also trained with weapons beside magic.
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