Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun

Chapter Fifty

A thousand candles twinkled at the feet of the Mother and near as many as the feet of the Father, there were hundreds at the altar of the Smith, the Crone, The Warrior and the Maid and even now a hundred burned at the feet of the Stranger. Incense hung thick in the air, so sweet that it coated the back of his throat with every breath that Rhaegar took.

Ser Harlan Grandison almost looked handsome, grand in his scaled white armour as he lay on the bier. Death had robbed him of the last twenty years of age and for the first time, Rhaegar could say that he looked nearly young. Peaceful, he looked peaceful. He wondered if he would look like this when he died, he hoped that he would but some how he had doubted it.

The only other person in the sept at the moment was the Lord Commander of the King's Guard, who had taken it upon himself to stand the last vigil for the old knight. Ser Georld Hightower was resplendent in his white scale armour, a large white helm enclosed his head and he stood as still and silent as a statue. Rhaegar didn't have anything to say to him, he wouldn't disturb the peace that had fallen on to the sept.

His mother had come earlier with all her ladies in attendance and Viserys clutching at her skirts, they had each lit a candle and at laid them at the feet of the Mother's statue and all of them had knelt in prayer. The silk hoods that they wore shimmering in the candle light, their soft prayers almost sounding like a lullaby as a son was sung to sleep.

Many lords and ladies and knights had all come to pay their respects, even those who had never met the old man before. Even his father had come to the sept as well, for the first time in years actually coming out of the Red Keep. He had stayed in his litter all the way up to the door of Baelor's sept and had the rest of his kingsguard guarding it all the way.

And yet when he had seen the old man who had served his father for decades, the king looked even more fragile than usual. For a brief moment he thought that his Father might actually weep but as soon as it had appeared the madness clouded his face once again and glanced at every lord and lady in the sept, trying to find any enemies and not knowing that all he was doing was making them instead.

And yet now the septa was empty, only a few septons with censers were inside the sept along with Rhaegar and Ser Georld. Night had fallen on them and he knew that he should return to the Red Keep and yet he hadn't wanted to go back just yet. Ser Harlan had been dear to him as he had been growing and the man deserved as much respect as he could give.

It had been so sudden, everyone knew that Ser Harlan was an old man and wouldn't likely have been long for the world but how quickly he had slipped away had been odd. Arthur had spoken about how he had been falling asleep more and more often in meetings in the Sword Tower of the Red Keep and it often them to shaking him in his bed to get him to wake up until one day, they couldn't wake him no matter what they had tried. Rhaegar had to wonder if dying in his sleep would have pleased him, it was certainly peaceful but at the same time, a knight was meant to die fighting.

The found of footsteps entering the hall and approaching the bier made Rhaegar look up from Ser Harlan's face to see his lady wife approaching the bier, even when dressed in the colours of mourning Cersei was still stunningly beautiful, she wore a dress of black samite, only a few golden swirls on the sleeves were the only colour that she wore at the moment. Her golden curls framed her hair, being free of a hair net.

Her belly was alive with their child and the dress had to be taken out accordingly, she was so beautiful. She stood next to him and wrapped her hands around his arm and rest her head against his shoulder. "I was worried for you when you did not return with the others." Her voice was gentle, barely above a whisper as she looked down at the knight. "It saddens me that I missed the service, did the septon speak well?"

"Well enough, for a man who did not truly know him." The Septon had been dressed plainly, well, as plainly as a member of the Most Devout could. They had still not chosen a new High Septon as, according to Varys, they were terrified off offending the king. When Varys had told them that in the middle of the small council meeting, Rhaegar's royal father had only smiled.

It was still a matter of great concern, for so long as there was no High Septon then the Faith was technically leaderless. Leadership had fallen to the Most Devout in the High Septon's absence and they normally had an election among their own numbers to choose who would ascend to the position but apparently this election had been calmer than others, no one seemed willing to step into the robes that had caused the previous High Septon to be burned alive.

The thought of the stench of his roasting flesh was enough to make him feel ill so he resolved to shove the memory of it, and all the consequences that had risen with it, to the back of his mind for the moment before he pressed a kiss to the top of Cersei's head, his wife letting out a pleased little hum. "And you my love? Are you well now?"

The morning before they were to set out, an attack of violent sickness had stricken his lady wife and had forced her to be confined to her privy until the attack had cleared up. It was only when he thought of it that Rhaegar noticed that she was looking quite a bit paler than normal, at the time he had simply thought that it had been due to the black gown that she was wearing.

The memory of it seemed to displeased his wife as she frowned heavily and stiffened ever so slight. "A bit, Grand Maester Pycelle has been very helpful. He was a bit concerned, it's rare for sickness to strike this late but he claims that all will be well so long as I have a deal of bed rest." Cersei pulled away from him and walked to the top of the bier, so she could look down to Ser Harlan's face.

A look of contemplation appeared on her face as she stared down at him. "You know who I feel the most sorry for, at the moment?" She asked, not removing her gaze from the old knight's peaceful face.

"Who?"

"His squire." Cersei answered as she looked up at him, the lights of the candles caught her eyes and made the deep green pools glow. She stepped back towards him and reached down to take his hand, placing it on her belly. "What's his name my love? I cannot remember on the top of my head."

In truth, Rhaegar didn't know it either. He had seen the boy, though calling him a boy was something of a disservice as he was closer to twenty and thus older than a squire should be, about the Red Keep and King's Landing, often sent on some errand by Ser Harlan that was oft pointless as many of the men he had been sent to find had moved on from the city or had been dead for years.

The boy was short but stocky, dark hair framed a slightly pudgy face with droopy eyes which was oft bearded. It was odd how he could recall his features easily enough and yet the name seemed to have slipped from his memory. He turned to Ser Gerold. "Lord Commander, forgive me but do you know the name of Ser Harlan's squire?"

"Meryn, my Prince. His name is Meryn, of the House Trant." That was it, the voice of the Lord Commander being muffled by his helm gave his words an almost booming quality. "He has been serving, forgive me my Prince, he had been serving as Ser Harlan's squire since he was eight years old. He is past twenty now, as far as I am aware no squire in service to a Kingsguard knight has ever had to wait so long to be knighted himself."

"That is what I was thinking of, how sad it all was. This poor man has been in service to Ser Harlan for years, and I do not mean to speak ill of the poor dear man but we all know that squiring for him must have been difficult. And now he has lost his chance to be knighted. Who would take on a twenty year old squire?" His wife asked as her hand came up to cup Rhaegar's cheek, the feel of her gentle touch against his cheek light a fire in him. "The thought of it tears my gentle heart all to pieces, my love knight him. He may never get the chance to do so otherwise."

It was an odd request, some would even call it a daring one. Still others would call it rude and impertinent, Cersei was his lady wife and a princess and yet she would never be able to be a knight. She truly couldn't understand the duties and responsibilities that came with it. Yet others would call it inappropriate for the man to be knighted now since the knight he had been serving had only just died.

And yet the thought of it was sweet and she meant no harm and he imagined the squire must have been feeling terrible at the moment, when all that was considered it was hard to deny her and thus she granted the request with a smile. He would knight Meryn on the morrow and for the rest of time, he would always be known as Ser Meryn.

The smile she granted with him was one that could outshine the sun. "Thank you my lord." She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips before she pulled away. "I mean to return to the Red Keep. Will my lord accompany me?"

Rhaegar thought for a moment before he nodded and asked Cersei to wait in the litter for a moment, once his wife had left the sept he turned his attention back on to Ser Gerold. "Are you sure that you will be alright to continue the vigil for the rest of the day?"

Ser Gerold nodded and informed him that Ser Lewyn would be reliving him and taking over the vigil on the morrow. Rhaegar left the sept after lighting another candle at the feet of the Father and another at the feet of the Crone and saying a quick prayer to the both of them, hoping that the Father would judge that Ser Harlan deserved a place in the finest of the Seven Heavens and that the Crone would give him the wisdom to know what to do and what actions he should take in all the battles were to come.

Rhaegar soon found himself in his wife's litter and as they were on their way back to the Red Keep, a heavy rain began to fall down on to them. Rhaegar watched as the rain fell while Cersei was attending to some needlework. The prince allowed himself to enjoy a few moments of mindlessness before Cersei's voice brought him back to the moment. "I imagine that there will soon be a new White Sword to fill the place of the old."

Rhaegar frowned slightly as he contemplated that, it throw out a brand new set out outcomes. A new White brother could be blessing or a curse to him, most in the Seven Kingdoms knew what his father was so it was more than possible that he would be able to convince them to side with him when he had need of them but at the same time the sort of men who would swear the vows of the Kingsguard were those who wouldn't be easily swayed by the ways he would be able to sway most.

He had been able to convince Arthur Dayne and Lewyn Martell, neither of them were fond of the King after what he had done to Eila and her husband but they were also good men who had seen the horrors that his father had inflicted, and since he had been sent to Dragonstone with them he had been able to convince Ser Oswell to come over to his side as well, which he was more than pleased with as his family's seat of Harrenhal could come in handy.

But a new Kingsguard could complicate matters more than a slight bit, Rhaegar had no say or even influence in who was chosen and even if he did have some it was more than likely that his Father would just ignore all that he said as he more than often seemed to do. "I imagine that there will be yes, my Father will more than likely wait some time as to be respectful to Ser Harlan's passing and there are many worthy knights in the Seven Kingdoms, it will take even more time to decide who is worthy of the honour."

The answer seemed to satisify his lady wife as she returned to her needlework, a small smile playing on her lips. Rhaegar turned his attention back on to the rain as the litter made it's way back up to the Red Keep. It's walls darkened to the colour of blood.

End of Chapter Fifty.

This is a shorter chapter than normal but it's an important one, as it set's the stage for some future events that are to come. Next chapter we swap back to Ned' P.O.V in Dorne and I have to admit that I am really looking forward to writing a northman's perspective of the mouth southern kingdom.

On another note, I would like to point out this if the fiftieth chapter that I have written for this story and I am very proud of that and I would like to thank everyone who has followed me, left a review and added this story to their favourites. I hope that you will countinue to enjoy the story as we go forward.

With much love,

DiscordantSymphony