Chapter Ten

The morning dawned crisp and clear, sunlight streaming through my bedchamber window. But a bone-deep exhaustion still clung to me after a restless night haunted by dark dreams.

Rhea's midnight visit had left me tense and brooding. I rose to dress, thoughts churning as I considered whether to tell my father of her presumptuous intrusion. Would he even believe me without proof?

A knock interrupted my restless pacing. I opened the door to find a steward bearing an unexpected summons - King Robert demanded my presence for an urgent matter. Interesting. After yesterday's tensions, what new development required the king's urgent attention?

The throne room buzzed with activity when I arrived, various lords and servants bustling about while the king slouched atop the iron throne, distractedly thumbing through a stack of papers. He waved me forward impatiently.

"About time, boy. Things are coming to a head, and your father's the bloody Hand, not me. Here." He thrust a letter at me. "Fresh report. Read it."

I scanned the letter quickly. A spymaster's report from across the Narrow Sea claiming over 50,000 Dothraki screamers had joined forces with the Targaryen exiles, and now marched west toward..."They're sailing here?" I looked up in dismay.

Robert scowled. "Aye, the damn dragons are coming. Straight for my throne, if rumors hold true."

He stood abruptly, pacing between the shadowed pillars with a brooding expression. "They mean to rouse every Targaryen loyalist against me. Fucking Varys says secretribes show the girl has three baby dragons now. Three!" He kicked angrily at his fur-lined cloak piled on the steps.

"We'll need our strength united to repel them." I chose my next words carefully. "Perhaps we should make peace with former enemies..."

Robert rounded furiously on me. "You mean that incestuous Kingslayer scum and his treacherous kin? I'll not bend my neck to the bloody Lannisters!"

"Of course not, Your Grace. Only that in times of war-"

"War?" Robert interrupted with a barking laugh. "Now who said anything about war? We'll smash them at sea before they ever reach Westeros."

He marched back and dropped heavily onto the throne once more. "But you're not wrong. I'll need all forces readied along the coasts. And your father's stubborn honor be damned, I mean to take that sly daughter of Tywin's to wife."

I blinked in surprise. "You plan to wed Cersei Lannister?" The thought of allying with the scheming former queen unsettle me deeply.

Robert snorted in disgust. "Seven hells, boy, don't look so shocked. I can't stomach the woman any more than you. But I need her bloody father's men and gold to crush these Targaryen brats for good."

He gave me a pointed look. "That's why you'll keep yer mouth shut til the deed's done. I'll not have your fool father's honorable protestations botch this."

I shifted uneasily. "Yes, Your Grace."

Robert nodded in satisfaction and waved a dismissive hand. "Right, off with you then. And send in that damn Spider."

I escaped the throne room heavy with troubled thoughts. Father would be furious when he learned of Robert's plans for Cersei. I had hoped to guide the king toward wiser decisions, yet now we seemed bound on a perilous course.

My restless feet carried me to the castle yards where I found my sister Arya viciously hacking at a straw dummy in place of the princess she despised. I winced at each rough blow. Her furious precision had certainly improved.

When she noticed me watching, she gave the dummy one last punishing whack before stomping over. "Did he say when Sansa and I can leave?" she demanded without preamble.

I shook my head. "You know he won't let any of us depart yet. Be patient."

Arya scowled and kicked viciously at a loose cobblestone, sending it skittering across the yard. "I hate it here!"

I sighed. Her wolf's blood was up. "Hating solves nothing. Our enemies move against us - the Targaryens sail this way." I lowered my voice. "War is coming."

Her grey eyes sparked with interest. "Truly? With real battles?" She made several sharp jabbing motions with her small sword. "I could fight! No one would know I'm a girl in armor."

Despite myself, I smiled slightly at her ferocity. "Hopefully it won't come to that. But we must be ready, all the same."

I left her enthusiastically slashing at the straw man once more and continued through the bustling yards and gatehouse stairs. Outside the castle walls, there were preparations to be made, contingencies to consider...

Lost in thought, I rounded a corner and nearly collided with a slender figure hurrying the opposite direction. Rhea Baratheon stared back at me, her piercing green eyes unreadable.

"In a hurry, Daemon?" she asked in a silken voice.

I bristled. She was the last person I wished to see right now. "No concern of yours. Move along."

But she remained firmly blocking the staircase, head cocked with a hint of a smirk. "Going to share more secrets with the Spider?"

My eyes narrowed. Was she having me followed?

Rhea waved a hand airily. "No matter. I know you refuse my offer. Pity." She leaned closer, searching my face intently. "But when the cold winds blow and wolves rear, remember who stands ready to teach you what you need to survive."

With that cryptic warning, she slipped past me up the stairs in a swirl of black cloak and golden hair. I stared after her, unease twisting my gut. The damned girl was a witch, truly. And growing ever bolder.

Shaken, I navigated the bustling streets of King's Landing in a daze. Rhea's vexing words haunted me as I wound through crowded markets and muddy alleys. I needed time alone to clear my head, to make sense of everything.

The towering walls and sept of Baelor provided a refuge. I wandered between cool shadowed alcoves and along the outer ambulatory, running my hands over carved stone faces of the Seven, each larger than me. The giants seemed to reproach my doubts. For once, their divine gaze offered no clarity.

Eventually my restless steps brought me to a small side chapel. Within the mosaic-tiled chamber, votive candles cast a warm flickering glow across stone pews and decorative urns filled with fragrant oils and flowers.

I settled onto a bench and tried calming my thoughts through steady breaths. But dark visions of future wars threatened to overshadow all wise reflection.

"You seem troubled, my prince."

I looked up with a start. An elderly septon stood in the doorway, his wrinkled face kind as he hobbled toward me using a weirwood walking stick.

"Forgive my intrusion. I oft seek solitude here myself." He settled heavily onto the pew across from me. "What burdens weigh so heavily on one so young?"

I hesitated, unsure whether to confide my true fears. But the old man's eyes shone with patient wisdom.

I began slowly. "These are...difficult times. Enemies rise against the king. And I fear dark days coming, yet know not how to prevent them."

The septon nodded thoughtfully, gnarled hands folded over his walking stick.

"You speak wisely for one so young. But we cannot always halt the inexorable tides of change...neither can we foresee all ends."

He smiled gently, the myriad wrinkles on his face creasing deeper.

"Yet even in darkness, the Seven offer their guidance to those with open hearts. Pray with me now, my prince."

The septon extended his weathered hands palm up in invitation. After only a brief hesitation, I rested my hands atop his. Together we bowed our heads.

"Gentle Mother, grant me courage. Father, grant me strength..."

As he led me through the familiar supplications, some of the tension ebbed from my shoulders. I had expected a lecture, yet his words soothed rather than condemned.

When the final prayer faded into echoing silence, I raised my head to meet his benevolent gaze.

"Thank you, Father. Your wisdom heartens me."

He patted my shoulder with one gnarled hand as he slowly stood.

"May the Seven guide you on your path, young prince." Leaning heavily on his weirwood staff, he shuffled toward the chapel entrance.

I sat a while longer in the enfolding silence. The candles' golden light warmed me. For the first time in days, some faint sense of peace settled through my spirit. Not all paths ahead were dark, if I but kept faith.

Dusk was falling as I exited the Great Sept, the fiery sky above promising a clear cold night. I hurried back toward the Red Keep, the clanging bells summoning all to dinner.

I was crossing the inner ward when hurried footsteps approached from behind.

"Prince Daemon!" a breathless voice called out.

I turned to see a royal page holding up a fur-trimmed cloak. "Her Grace the Princess commands you join her atop Maegor's Holdfast at once."

Eyeing the rich sable and velvet garment, I suppressed a groan. What mischief was Rhea plotting now?

But refusing a royal summons, even from her, would only bring more trouble. Reluctantly, I allowed the page to sweep the fur-lined cloak about my shoulders before he scampered off.

Trudging up the stone steps through the emptying yards, I steeled myself for whatever new madness awaited me. Had she somehow learned of my meeting with the king and now meant to pry out details? If so, she would find me no easy source to ply for secrets.

Reaching the holdfast roof, I saw no sign of the princess. The winds here blew brisk and bitingly cold above the sheltering castle walls. Stars were winking into life across the darkening sky. I pulled the warm velvet cloak tighter with a shiver, eyeing the shadows warily.

"Rhea?" I called out. "Enough games. Where are you?"

"Right here."

She emerged gracefully from behind a stone bastion, also swathed in rich furs that could not quite diminish the impish gleam in her eyes. Two servants trailed behind bearing large bundles.

I crossed my arms, remaining aloof. "Well? Why have you summoned me?"

"To share a meal, of course. We've had so little chance to talk." She beckoned the servants forward.

Warily, I watched them spread thick fur rugs and unwrap an astonishing array of foods - spiced meats, thick stews, warm loaves of bread, sweetmeats and pies and trays of roasted vegetables. Despite myself, I felt a gnaw of hunger.

Rhea dismissed the servants before settling smoothly atop the furs and selecting a honeyed fig. She nibbled it delicately as she eyed me with amusement.

"Come, before it gets cold. Cook made all your favorites."

When I remained stubbornly standing, she shrugged and began filling two plates with succulent fare. The scents wafting my way whittled down my defiance. I was famished after the long strange day.

Reluctantly, I settled across from her and accepted the heaping plate. But I remained wary of her motives. We ate in silence for several moments. Overhead, stars emerged in sharp pinpricks through the darkening sky.

"You've been avoiding me since your father became Hand," Rhea finally said, eyeing me closely. "Why?"

I stared back evenly. "You know why. Our families are at odds. It's wiser we keep our distance." I took a bite of peppered venison to stop further words.

Rhea's mouth twisted in annoyance. "Must we be defined by our fathers' quarrel? I had thought we shared a unique bond."

I nearly choked on the venison. "Bond? You undermined your own parents. Why should I trust you?"

Her gemstone eyes turned flinty. "Trust? From a practiced liar who conceals his true self and plays the innocent?"

She shook her head, golden curls swaying gently. "We walk the same shadows, you and I. There's no shame in it."

I wiped my mouth warily. How much did she truly know or suspect about me? I chose my response with care.

"I seek only to protect my family and prevent greater bloodshed. Any...deceptions...serve that cause."

Rhea tilted her head, studying me. "Yet you lack the strength to openly confront our enemies. And your quaint scruples restrain the full use of your gifts."

She leaned closer. "I've offered to teach you. Together, we could right every wrong inflicted on us."

Her words wove a compelling vision - no one could withstand our combined powers. I could reshape the very boards where the game of thrones was played...

No. I shoved the thought away and met her intense gaze.

"I don't know what twisted schemes you plot, but I'll be no part of them. My loyalty remains with House Stark."

Rhea's eyes sparked with frustration. Abruptly she stood, the furs rustling around her.

"Loyalty? You northerners and your unthinking obedience." She paced the windswept battlements, her voice rising.

"I show you the power at our fingertips, and you crawl back to outdated notions of honor and duty. Is the Stark name truly worth preserving if they'd fetter you?"

She wheeled back to face me, cheeks flushed. "Open your eyes! If you bow and scrape to lesser men, you waste the gifts you've been given."

I rose slowly. "I won't join whatever dark path you walk. My family and kingdom need me."

Rhea stepped closer, her gaze intent. "Do they? Or do you just fear walking your own road?"

When I faltered, she pressed on. "I know you feel it - you were meant to shake empires, not meekly bend to the whims of drunkards and fools."

Her accusation struck uncomfortably close to my own restless doubts. I tried a different tack.

"Powers like ours come with a cost. How many innocent lives will be ground up in our ambitions?" I asked quietly.

Rhea waved a dismissive hand. "What care I for nameless smallfolk? Our ends justify-"

"No." My tone hardened. "I'll find my own way without sacrificing others."

We stared at each other across the fur-strewn stones. The wind whipped Rhea's golden curls wildly as she searched my face.

Finally she stepped back and inclined her head, an unsettling smile playing about her lips.

"So be it. I can remain patient a while longer." Her piercing green eyes lingered on me. "When you tire of cowering in shadows, you'll change your tune."

With that cryptic remark, she gathered her skirts and descended the worn steps, her footfalls echoing until silenced by the wind's low whistle.

I sank back down slowly, appetite vanished. Had I just made a dangerous gamble...or averted catastrophe? Neither her motives nor next moves were clear to me.

Above, clouds swept over the emerging moon, deepening the shadows enfolding Maegor's Holdfast. Shivering, I abandoned the unfinished meal to make my own way carefully back down the steep worn steps.

Despite the oppressive silence in my bedchamber, sleep still stubbornly eluded me. Restless and unsettled by the day's events, my mind kept returning to the confrontation with Rhea.

I rolled over in the darkened room, her goading words about wasted power and bowed necks echoing in my memory. Much as I hated to admit it, part of me recognized the truth in them. I had been changing nothing, reacting instead of seizing control...

No. I shook off the thought. Her reckless ambition would only bring ruin. I must walk my own path, find my own way to guide Westeros toward peace.

But how? My mind turned in weary circles as I watched shadows inch across the wall. No answers came, only a bleak uncertainty that left me staring up at the darkened bed canopy with a frustrated sigh.

Gradually, somewhere amidst my brooding, exhaustion overtook me and I slipped into restless dreams.

I stood atop a great tower window, gazing out over sunlit blue waters where three dragons wheeled and called mournfully. The beasts began fading, growing smaller and fainter until disappearing.

Dark stormclouds swept across the sky as angry shouts echoed up the tower steps behind me. My father's voice pleaded reason, but swords rang out in cruel retort.

I tried to turn back but could not move, frozen at the window overlooking the now-tumultuous seas. Waves crashed against the cliffs far below where the dragons had been. The skies opened with lashing rain.

Lightning flashed, and suddenly Rhea was outside the window before me, holding out her hand as she hovered above the violent surf.

"Come away," she entreated. "We can tame the dragons together."

I shook my head slowly, straining to turn back. But fierce hands seized me from behind when the tower door crashed open. I was dragged toward the gaping window.

"Rhea, help me!" I cried out as the shadowed assailants shoved me headlong into empty air. I fell twisting toward the raging waters below.

But instead of cold sea, I landed with a painful thud in soft grass. Blinking up at a cobalt sky, I slowly sat up and stared around in bewilderment. Gentle sunlight gleamed over rolling green hills dotted with bright wildflowers. Birds sang from flowering trees in the distance.

Where was I? I stood up and scanned the unfamiliar lush green hills stretching to the horizon, realizing with dawning alarm that my dream had somehow teleported me far far way from King's Landing.