3rd Month of 283 A.C. Riverlands

Prince Rhaegar Targaryen

There were times when Rhaegar wondered what had possessed him to take the Stark girl, there were some things that did not make sense. Lyanna had been filled with fire when he had met her at Harrenhal, and she had pleaded with him to aid her, and yet he had not wanted to do so. He had told her he would not break from the ground for anything, and then he had taken her. It was as if he had been in a trance, as if he had not be acting within his own mind, and then he had come to, and she and he had been married, somehow and yet there was no child. The child of ice and fire was not coming forth from their union that had worried him. But there were more important things to worry about and they were coming forth now. He had ridden out from the tower with Arthur, and met with a host commanded by Lord Tywin, the man who was to be his goodfather soon enough, and this was where they were now preparing for war.

Rhaegar looks at the lords gathered in the command tent, they have a large host, Tyrell had delivered on his promise and now Rhaegar meant to take what was his. "What word has there been from the trident? What became of the rebels and my father's forces?"

Lord Tywin cold and immovable as always takes a moment to speak. "It seems that Brandon Stark survived his little ordeal within King's Landing and emerged as hand of the king, for King Aerys. As such he commanded the royal host that met the rebel host at the trident. There was much discussion it seems, that ended with Robert Baratheon's death."

Rhaegar feels somewhat shaken by this, he had thought Stark would be dead by now, clearly his survival is something that must be thought of now. "And how have the rebels dealt with this?"

Lord Tywin speaks once more. "Jon Arryn has begun protesting most fervently, but Stark's brother as well as Lord Hoster have gone over to Brandon Stark and Aerys' side. Therefore they are allied together and are waiting for the order to march out."

Rhaegar considers this. "This is a problem is it not? There was no fighting between the knight major's host and the rebel host was there?"

"No, there was not sire." Lord Tywin replies.

Rhaegar feels something akin to panic grow within him then. Even with their increased host, they might not have enough strength and force to deal with the new army that is waiting for them. Looking at Lord Tarly, Rhaegar asks. "Do you think we can defeat these rebels?"

Lord Tywin looks somewhat angry that he has not been asked, however, Tarly is someone whom Rhaegar knows he can rely on to give an unbiased account of their military strength. After some time the man speaks. "I think there is a high chance that we can win this battle sire. The rebels are seated below a hill, and though they might have more experience with regards to fighting, sheer numbers could well overwhelm them."

Ser Kevan speaks then. "And there is also the risk that they might form into spear formation, and that in itself could lead to us being hampered. The Dornish have remained neutral thus far, and therefore we are limited in our own spear formations."

Elia, gods, he wonders what life has been like for her under his father, whether or not she has suffered or if she has thrived. He does not know. Lord Tarly speaks then. "The Dornish are not needed for this battle Sire. They would only serve to be a hindrance, they would not fight with a clear mode of intention and would instead try and do what they always do."

"And what is that my lord?" Rhaegar asks intrigued.

"They would try to separate into different formations and then try to fall on the enemy. Of course with Princess Elia a hostage within King's Landing, who knows what role of form that might take. For all we know, we could become their enemies." Tarly responds.

Rhaegar considers this. "How many men do the rebels have?"

"Some fifty thousand men if our estimates are correct sire." Lord Tyrell says, his voice barely hiding his excitement at being included in this war council.

Rhaegar wonders why he decided to include Tyrell in his war plans, and then he remembers. There is something about Tyrell that makes him feel more confident in his own decisions and person. It is almost as if his own deficiencies are removed when Tyrell is present. Looking at the man then he says. "Lord Tyrell, tell me, how do you feel about commanding the vanguard?"

He can see the shock on some of the lords' faces, and there is something akin to approval on Lord Tywin's face, something that makes Rhaegar feel pride grow within him. "I would be most honoured Sire."

"Good, twenty thousand men shall be under your command, and this time, I want the rebels destroyed. If you find Brandon Stark have him killed, I want his brother brought before me though." Rhaegar says. He remembers Lyanna saying she was closest to this brother, though he cannot understand, considering they had rarely seen one another.

"What of Lord Arryn Sire?" Lord Tarly asks. "Could he not be somewhat of a liability, considering what he knows of the plans your royal person has made?"

Rhaegar considers this and then looking at Lord Tywin for guidance says. "Arryn shall not feature heavily within the rebels plans. If what we know is right, he shall be keeping himself to the rear, prepared to launch a rearguard assault should the rebels look to be winning."

Another moment's silence and then Lord Tywin speaks. "Very well Sire. Is there aught more that you wish to discuss?"

Rhaegar looks at the man and then smiles. "Not at this point in time my lord. That is all."

The meeting ends, and Rhaegar leaves the tent first, accompanied by Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell disappeared not long after they arrived within the Tower, a moment Rhaegar still cannot remember. He gets changed into his armour, his nerves are beginning to grow, he knows that this will be his first taste of actual battle, there are things that might happen during this battle, it was supposed to be Robert Baratheon he faced, his dreams said as much. And yet not for the first time, his dreams have been proven false, he finds himself wondering at all of that now. Was it all some sort of illusion then, something that came about in his desperate desire to prove himself worthy? Worthy, to who though? His father or Lord Tywin? That has been the question that has plagued him his entire life, does he have the chance to prove himself to both and keep them both alive? He doubts it, he knows his father must die for him to succeed to the throne, the thought haunts him. He knows what must happen after this, Elia must fall, and Dorne will have to be conquered anew. It terrifies him.

His armour is black, black as night, with rubies glimmering within it. Similar to the Conqueror's armour, similar to Aenar the Exile's armour. He knows it is presumptuous of him, but he knows that unless his men have something to rally around they will falter and this will end badly. He cannot allow that to happen, he has seen what will happen if he dies, has seen it in his dreams, and he knows that is not a good future. He shakes his head then, Robert Baratheon is dead, and his father would not dare dream of having him killed, not unless he wanted the title of Kinslayer, though Stark, Stark might act. Gods, the worry he feels now is only growing, more and more, it is consuming him, he feels something akin to relief when he hears the horn sound that signals the beginning of the Tyrell march. Arthur stands guard beside him, his friend through all of this, his lover as well. Gods there is much and more that he is not sure of, but at least Arthur is still there by his side. He does not know what he would do without Arthur.

The fear of not having Arthur makes him look at his friend then, to make sure that his friend is still there, solid at his side. Reassured, Rhaegar focuses on the movements of the vanguard. Twenty thousand men charging at the rebel host there, before them. Rhaegar feels the ground rumble, feels it hammer at his heart, knows that somewhere deep inside that there will be something at the end of all of this that will either confirm or deny what he has known all along. The moments pass by slowly, very slowly, his frustration grows, it is deepening, he is not sure what to make of it, but it is growing. The sounds of the battle are distant, but they are there, they are there and they are growing. Slowly but surely, he sees the fight, another horn sounds and the left under Lord Randyll goes charging into the fighting. Rhaegar commands the right, and slowly but surely he begins moving toward the centre. A deep breath, he draws his sword and spurs his horse onward.

Battle, this is his first battle, a strange thought, had he not done what he had, it is likely that there would never have been a battle, another taste of peace. But people scheme during peace, Rhaegar has learned that, for he did it himself. He did it before Duskendale, when his father was still sane, but his mother, he feels as if he will be cursed to the seven hells for all he has put his mother through. She cared for him, loved him, when his father was gone somewhere else. Rhaegar sighs then, he despises himself for the many things he has done, but they have been needed, they had to happen, otherwise there would be nothing but hell to pay. And that is something that could not be allowed, most definitely could not be allowed. Struggling through certain things, Rhaegar clears his mind and then moves forward, determined to make a good impression during his first battle. His horse races across the ground, and he himself, well he feels alive. More alive than he has done in a long time. The horse matches his heart beat.

The battle is fast and furious, more than anything he has ever faced before, his sword is there being wielded by someone, is that him who is wielding the sword, or someone else? He does not know, but the thought is somewhat intoxicating, and so he swings his sword, and he moves like a man bred for battle. He swings his sword, and feels bone crunch beneath it, his own body takes its fair share of blows and harm. And yet, on he goes, Arthur at his side, he feels alive, so very alive, and more alive than he has ever felt making love or doing anything else. He dreams of a throne, a thing that might well make it all worthwhile, he dreams of a girl with golden hair, the woman he has to marry to save Westeros. He thinks of the wolf maid who took him prisoner within her mind, and with her charms. Pain accompanies that image, why is it that they are all thinking him a bad man? Why do they never think Lyanna might have taken him, herself? She has teeth the wolf maid, and she is not afraid to use them. He feels his mind falter then, turning into something else. His mind, falters, and a black hound appears, and then it seems as though it is all faltering. Blood comes, and the world turns upside down.