Chapter 4: Her Tale
"...I wonder," I heard the Prince mused, "What did Lord Tywin plan to do if he had succeeded?"
Father had just been executed then. Until his last moment, he had been denying the charges of treason, while placing the most malicious curse on me. It was no use; Lord Darklyn and his wife had admitted it all under torture.
I was allowed the mercy of not attending the execution, instead encouraged to spend time with Prince Rhaegar. I could gather that the King meant for me to spy on his heir, for he still didn't trust him while my own loyalty was proven.
Although that's his intention, the Prince and I, more than five namedays apart, didn't have much common interest. We're awkwardly strolling around when he brought up the question.
I could hear them discussing, but the sound was muffled. They still hadn't decided how to deal with my new position yet.
So it's up to me.
"He could have pushed you to wed a Lannister... not me, though. I had some cousins of the appropriate ages."
He sighed, "Then Lord Tywin had misstepped greatly. I wouldn't allow myself to be under his thumb more than father did."
"Yet you'll be a different kind of king." I would confess it was a way to feel him out. One of the arguments they had was whether the Prince would be a good king or not; I wished to test it for them.
"Not that much. My court will be quieter, but currently, the realm is running itself smoothly. I see no reason to change things." Did he think I was asking this for the King? But then his tone was disinterested. I supposed he didn't have much interest in ruling.
What he's interested in...
"...Will you try to bring back the dragons? As the Prince That Was Promised?"
He turned to look at me, his eyes widened. "You believe I'm the Prince That Was Promised?"
I don't. "Who else could it be?"
He nodded eagerly, his eyes brightened up, "Yes, it could only be me."
"Wait, what're you doing? Don't encourage his delusion!" One of them finally realized what I was doing.
"...I thought I'm supposed to befriend him?"
"Yes, but..." They hesitated.
"Summerhall was a tragedy," The Prince continued dreamily, "But it's in the right direction. I'll bring the dragons back into this world."
His enthusiasm threw me off guard. I thought he was untalkative... perhaps he was more similar to his father than at first glance.
"This isn't good. He isn't the Prince That Was Promised, that's Dany... ask him how he plans to bring the dragons back."
"How do you plan to bring the dragons back?"
He smiled secretively, "You'll know when it happens."
"...It's not some sort of blood sacrifice, is it?" I heard them mumbling worriedly. "Anyway, he should change his mind later, so it doesn't matter..."
Will he though? "I have another question," I said, "I heard you went to the ruins of Summerhall frequently. What's there? Dragons Eggs?"
He shook his head, "They've all turned to stone and ash now... but one day I'll resurrect them." He gave me a gentle smile, "Would you like to see it?"
"Summerhall?"
"Aye. I'll bring my harp."
They didn't have any instructions. Perhaps they didn't care. Perhaps they didn't know what to do too.
Still, I asked, "What should I do?"
I heard a sigh. "Do what you want. At this point, we'll rather let you be... the situation is out of our hands now. If you two can, somehow, be happy together, then the Rebellion might not happen."
I can... be happy?
"I would love to see it with you." I answered.
—-
The ruin of Summerhall was... well, a ruin. The only thing left there was the shambles of a burnt castle.
I looked around. The Prince was busily dragging a roll of supplies down the horse. The sun was setting...
"...Are we going to stay the night here?"
He smiled. "It's going to be beautiful. Don't worry, I've brought you blankets. You won't catch a cold."
"I'm not worried at all...?"
He brought me into the middle of the ruins and cleared the ground. I sat there watching while he went and lit a fire, preparing for the night. When he was done, it was almost completely dark.
I wasn't worried, as I had said, but some of them were.
"Hey... if he tries anything, take the horse and run."
"He isn't a rapist! How many times - "
"Shh! Didn't we agreed to drop this for now?"
I was quite certain that the Prince wouldn't try anything on me, considering my age, but when he sat beside me, I still curled up slightly.
I didn't think he noticed my reaction. His eyes were unfocused under the fickle flash. "It's here... at this time."
"Huh?"
"Look." He pointed to the top of the ruined building.
The moonlight filled the hall through the cracks on the ceiling, illuminating the various glass shards in the ashes. A thousand colours sparkled among the dark, shining brighter than the stars in the sky.
"It's so pretty..." I said.
"It is." When I looked at him, I saw a strange sight: tears were dropping from his eyes, but he was grinning oddly, the corner of his mouth pulled up almost as if against his will.
I didn't understand the emotions behind that expression. He continued, "There's beauty in ashes and smoke... in fire and blood... in where dragons born and died. I was there... we almost succeeded..."
"You couldn't possibly remember the tragedy of Summerhall. You're a mere newborn then." I pointed out.
"I shouldn't. But I do." He closed his eyes, "Even now I can hear the shouting and screaming, smell the smoke and the burnt meat, and the red."
I tilted my head, "Red?"
"Red of the flames. Red of the blood. They're forever burnt into my eyes."
"...I think that's just his imagination." They whispered.
I had the same conclusion. It seemed inconceivable that he would actually have any memory of that day.
Unless...
"Have you ever... heard the Seven's voices?"
I thought they'd have complained, warned me, but nothing happened.
Perhaps they're waiting for this moment too.
For me to finally tell someone...
He stared at me surprisingly for a moment, then shook his head. "No," He murmured gently, "But I should have known you're someone special. You speak wisely beyond your year... and your eyes are... different."
"Different..." I had looked into a mirror. I know my eyes were dim and empty. But the way he was minding me... lit something up.
Something I thought was lost ages ago.
A wish that someone would listen to me -
"You could tell him if you want, Cersei..."
Someone would care for me.
"We'd rather for you... to heal."
What was that emotion that I heard in their voices? I didn't understand... I still not understand.
But maybe someday I will.
With their consent, I started telling you my story.
Rhaegar.
