Hello Readers! I know, I am being incredibly unfair by starting all sorts of new stories instead of finishing the old ones, but I can't help it. New plots are swamping my head and i just need to get them out. For example, I have two other Game of Thrones/A song of Ice and Fire fics started and I plan on putting them here in a few days or even weeks. But this story came to me in a dream, believe it or not and I had to write it all out.
I know this is an unusual character and there will be an OC with him and I am going completely against canon here. So sorry to the Lyanna and Rhaegar fans, but this will be Rhaegar and OC fic through and through.I hope you like it, Please Review. Happy Reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own A Song Of Ice and Fire...
His Secret Wisdom
Prologue
He looked at the old croon and frowned skeptically. He did not believe in such things, but the norm for him had always been to pursue knowledge and there were many different, unbelievable and impossible knowledges in the world which remained so until proven and if proven then there was no question of belief, it became a fact. He was there to pursue such a knowledge, his curiosity led him there to the old croon.
He was fifteen and believed himself to have a sound sense of judgment even if his ancestry said otherwise. To say that his family was famous for its eccentricities would be putting it mildly. His lips tightened, his father was after all the Mad King. He tilted his head to the side, his silver blonde hair cascading down his broad shoulder; his cool lilac eyes assessed the cackling blind croon before him.
His voice was soft, confident and deep as he asked, "What does your vision say about me then?"
The croon and he were alone and the dark walls of Dragonstone echoed their voices, his voice deep and melodious while hers was harsh and shrill. She kept on cackling, her wrinkled face stretching into a smile, she taunted her cloudy eyes moving, unseeing all over him, "Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, son of Aerys II, Prince of Dragonstone…your future…Aha ha ha ha…"
Her cackling did not stop at all. It took a special kind of patience to humor the beggar he asked to bring before him. It was said that this croon saw things no one did, things of the future that hadn't even happened, that could happen and how the future could be changed for the better or for the very worst. There were frauds all over the kingdom who claimed of such things so that they could fool naïve people into emptying their pockets. But this one was different. She never spoke for money and she never searched people out. In fact, no one could get her to look into their futures unless she wanted to and it was even more mysterious that she could never be found unless she wanted to be found.
Rhaegar had seen her that day, looking at him with her blind eyes, cackling madly on the streets, so he had asked one of his men to bring her to him. She clearly had something to say to him, of that much he was sure of. The croon sat down on the floor and rocked back and forth in some unknown rhythm that only she heard, a few sharp giggles escaping her chapped lips every now and then. Rhaegar rested his chin on a closed fist and patiently and attentively continued to watch her.
Finally, she spoke, her voice was rough, low and sinister, "There are consequences to every little action and every consequences changes the outcomes. Every action and every consequence, every choice and every decision, all of them are variables in their own rights. Variables that affect the future. Your future, Prince Rhaegar is doomed."
Her words were absolute and those cloudy eyes of hers seemed to be boring into his own lilac ones, but he still knew that she couldn't see a thing. Her words evoked a strange sort of panic in him, but he swallowed it and calmly asked, "Doomed? How?"
She laughed a bitter laugh, "The choices you make will make the future. You are the start of everything. You will start something that will be the very stepping stone of utter chaos and the destruction of everything."
Suddenly, all the humor of the situation was gone. He felt like someone had placed a heavy stone upon his chest and he couldn't breathe or bear its weight. He asked hesitantly, "What choice?"
The croon's withered hands clutched her filthy cloak as she sneered, "You think you are wise and hold all the knowledge. You think you make the right choices, the noble decisions. Yet you are blind and ignorant."
Rhaegar couldn't take it anymore. He slapped his hand on the arm rest and demanded, "Stop speaking in riddles. Tell me in plain tongue."
She let out an amused cackle so shrill that he felt a shiver travel down his spine. She spoke, "They say Targaryens are only capable of either madness or greatness. You see very plainly what is wrong with the king, yet you do nothing and you plan on doing nothing. He will burn everything to the ground and you know it."
Rhaegar knew exactly what she meant. But it was his father she spoke of and also the King of the realm. It was treason to speak of such things. He couldn't betray his kin or his king and in this case both were the same person. He growled at the croon even though guilt and agreement with her statements prickled his skin, "That is my lord father and the king you speak of, woman. Bite your tongue before someone rips it off."
Her laughter this time was like screams as she retorted, "He would burn me alive and you know it, Prince. You know it and you know how worse he is going to get. You know it but you turn your head."
Rhaegar seethed but he couldn't say anything to that. He knew how his father was and how his poor, sweet mother suffered. She spoke ferociously, "You follow the path of knowledge. But you will gain no wisdom. In time you will make vows you will not keep in favor of following your desire and curiosity for something which belongs to you not. That will be the beginning of the end. The end for you, your family and your people. Then the descent of doom will come down slowly and surely. Thousands will die and all because of your ignorance and bad judgment."
This time he was confused, but each of her word rang loudly in his ears, the sheer strength in her words made him wonder if they were the truth. He started, "I do not…"
She sneered once more, "Fire and blood. Madness and screams. You make the right choices and you, Prince Rhaegar could save everything and everyone. You can be the savior instead of the bringer of doom."
Rhaegar did not want to believe her or any of the vile things she spoke of, but still a hoarse whisper left his lips, "How?"
She looked calm all of a sudden, her hands eased and she caressed the floor around her. The harsh lines on her face smoothed out a little and she answered him in a husky voice, "Be the greatness your father failed to become. Become a better man, a better friend, a better husband, a better father and a better ruler than your father. Learn to lead and fight for which is right for your people. Do not make promises you know in your heart that you do not want to keep. Do not chase after which is not yours. The wild-wolf is never meant for you, the wolf belongs to someone else and entwining your destiny with that wolf will be the beginning of the destruction. Stay true to your path and save your people."
Rhaegar's mind raced as he contemplated everything, he told her firmly, his eyes searching her for more definitive answers, "None of this makes sense. What am I meant to do then? Fight my own father for the throne? Who is the wolf?"
She gave him a small sly smile, "If you think fighting your father for the throne will save your people then do so. The choice is yours to make. You still have time, think it over very carefully. There many battles and wars that will come before you, Prince."
He opened his mouth to ask, but she interrupted, "Battles and wars of greed, ambition, power, vengeance and kingdoms will come first and if you are wise enough, you shall conquer them. Then after decades will come the darkest of times. You and everyone will have to fight things which are far more than petty human squabbles. Things of cold, ice and winter and that reside in the darkest of nights, all of those horrible mysterious things will come for every living soul and if you survive until then, you can help your people and many more defeat it all."
Rhaegar's hands formed fists against his thighs. His stomach churned; her words were imprinted in his mind as he asked, "What must I do to survive until then?"
The croon snorted, "Make the right choices."
Rhaegar snapped, "How if I don't know them?"
The croon cackled, her horrible voice were like nails against the skin, "If I made the choices for you then I would be the Queen and you my King Regent, Princeling. The choices are not before you yet, they will appear and when they do you will know. There still is time, until then prepare yourself to be a great leader and the man that your father is not."
Rhaegar glared at her, the fifteen year old felt the stubborn desire to unnerve her as she did him. He growled, "I could choose not to believe you."
She gave him a sinister smile and replied tauntingly, "Do so and nothing will change. Everything will happen as it was supposed to; you will make bad decisions and bring doom over everything and everyone. The only reason I am interfering is because I am curious to see if you could write your own fate differently if nudged towards the right path."
He sneered, "So this is your choice then? You plant seeds of doubt, suspicion, paranoia and fear of the unknown in my mind. You let me become mad with worry and fear. You watch as I slowly make a fool out of myself?"
She smirked darkly at him, "I do not have to do anything. I am helping as much as I am allowed to because I want to see a different outcome. Believe my word or not that is your choice to make."
Rhaegar demanded, "Can I rely on your visions? Will you swear your allegiance to me and make your gift available to me?"
Rhaegar sat back with a deep frown as he watched the croon rolling on the floor shrieking and panting in shrill laughter. She told him, completely out of breath, "Ignorant Prince! Did you not heed a word I said? The choices will be yours and the journey is yours. I am no one but a spectator and as it is, in the grand scheme of the universe, I do not exist. I have interfered enough by speaking to you now."
Rhaegar ran a hand through his nearly white hair, frustration about this entire meeting overwhelming him and started, "But how…"
The croon interrupted once more, her lips smiling her slyest smile yet, "Worry not, Prince. I may not be able to help you further or give you all the answers you seek. But I will give you something better; something that will be the greatest help you could only dream of having in the tough times coming."
Hope burned in Rhaegar's dark lilac eyes as he asked in all but a whisper, "What is it?"
The croon held a withered hand towards him, informed him smugly, "Five moons after your seventeenth namesday, your help shall appear in your chamber in a flash of red and thunder. Once you see the golden hues you will know instantly."
Rhaegar demanded, "What is it?"
The croon giddily whispered, "Wisdom. Wisdom shall appear. Wisdom will be yours."
Rhaegar had so many more questions. She increased his confusion, but before he could ask, a loud caw broke through the otherwise eerily silent room. He jumped and turned to look at the window where a very large crow perched staring at him. In the blink of an eye it flew away, Rhaegar glared at the stupid bird and turned to the croon with more questions, but he was left feeling petrified. Where the croon was sitting on the floor, there was nothing. Nothing but a long black feather.
For moments he felt frightened and sat there unnerved. Finally he stood up and walked over to where the feather innocently lay on the ground. Rhaegar swallowed hard and picked up the feather. It was soft and shiny.
He jumped once more when he heard that familiar loud cackling of the croon fill the room. He turned around quickly, looking at every corner of the room, searching for her, but he was the only one in there. The laughter faded away and left the pale haired prince feeling overwhelmed with emotions. His blood ran cold when he saw that his hand was empty, the feather he was clutching so tightly had disappeared right from his hand. He cursed the croon and her visions. Now, he had to wait for two more years before he got his answers and solved this problem. He had always been a pursuer of knowledge but this time he had to wait to gain wisdom.