Hi Everyone,

This is my first message (in this story) to my kind readers. It humbles me to know you enjoy reading the story as much as I enjoy writing it. I would appreciate any reviews and/or corrections to the GoT lore as well as HP. Though accuracy is a challenge because blending in these two worlds is so tricky. I still plan to end this with the way the actual stories end up. I just always had this idea for the backstories of each character since in their own books there weren't much, so why not ya? In any case, thank you so much for showing your interest in this crossover!

Rhaegar

"You're inviting him to your weaknesses, Arthur. Presence of mind." Rhaegar said rather impatiently while observing the two young boys. The sound of steel against steel rang loud throughout the dance floor. Beside Rhaegar stood his ever loyal right hand man who, even in the prince's silence, sensed his tension or unease.

"I hope you're not worried about bedding your betrothed. Gods, the honor of a virgin woman." Richard said with a tone of satisfaction. Rhaegar did not regard him.

"Come on, you can't be this nervous?" Richard said with a heavy hand on Rhaegar's shoulder, "lack of practice?"

"That's enough." Rhaegar groaned with a shrug.

"Best pull yourself together then, you don't want this sort of air around your bride-to-be, or your mother."

"What is it with you." Rhaegar said, annoyed.

"Look, all I'm saying is it's obvious. Whether it's excitement over bedding your bride or the prospect that she may be an elephant, you're failing to conceal it."

"According to you and the entire realm, she's hand woven by the Seven. The embodiment of perfection, were your exact words." Rhaegar shifted his stance, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Does that not excite you, then?"

Rhaegar ignored him again.

"You've got to unknot those nerves, friend. Take Iyra tonight, I suggest. Also, I hear Pensephine has got an exquisite pair of twins, she might do you good."

"No." Rhaegar said boringly.

"The Queen."

Rhaegar swung a fist into Richard's shoulder, stunning him.

"You would insult my mother!"

"What the- I meant to say she's watching!" Richard exclaimed motioning above as he steadied himself. Rhaegar looked up and he was right, he saw her moving behind the stone balustrade with a handmaid following her—Bellatrix. It was hard to mistake her dark hair and pale skin next to his mother.

"Forgive me, my friend." Rhaegar said, patting Richard's arm. "You're right. It's just my nerves."

They were both looking up now, watching as the queen spoke to Bellatrix. They were much too high to hear, and too far too make out the words on their lips.

"She's new, isn't she? Haven't seen her around."

Rhaegar knew Richard meant Bellatrix.

"She's of the North."

"North?" Richard laughed, "how did a Northern lady come about this far? That would be an interesting mission. Those Starks are famous for their ability to withstand the cold. Surely she would know how to keep a man warm."

"Enough," Rhaegar ordered. Richard watched him curiously. "I've always been fond of your humor, Richard, you know that. But as a man about to marry, I'd like to keep the intentions for my bride pure."

It wasn't that. It was the way Richard disrespected Bellatrix with his words that nudged at Rhaegar's temper. Without another word, Richard walked away to focus on the spar, leaving the prince to his thoughts.

He caught Bellatrix's gaze, returned it without a care for being caught, and smiled at her as though a secret conversation had ensued.

The moon was high and full into the night when Rhaegar returned to his chambers. A fire in the hearth warmed the room for the cool night as he began to undress.

"Pleasant evening, my prince," said a sultry voice from within the room. Rhaegar turned to find a barely clothed Iyra, sitting seductively at the foot of his bed.

"Who sent you?" Rhaegar asked. He tried to keep his gaze above her shoulders.

"I am a gift, my lord, and the giver wishes to remain unknown. Sit next to me, please." She patted the empty space next to her and Rhaegar felt his navel weaken.

"I can not." He said with difficulty and turned away cursing Richard in his mind, "please leave, Iyra. I do not need your service tonight."

"How many moons must turn for you to be pleased with me, my prince?" Iyra asked and the hurt in her tone was evident.

Rhaegar remained unmoved even as he held his fists tight by his side.

"Leave, I must ask you." Rhaegar demanded, though too kindly. In a short silence, he heard her sniffle and move behind him. She had begun to dress which was a great relief to him, but while she had lazily draped herself still exposing delicate areas, Rhaegar watched as he waited.

But Iyra was not easily discouraged. With her hands, she continued to undress him: unlacing his coat, and undoing his breeches. She was too gentle, and while he had the urge, Rhaegar took her hands to pushed her away carefully.

"I command you this time to go." He said finally, squeezing her wrists a little too tightly. Iyra squealed in pain and pulled herself free to run out. Rhaegar hadn't noticed that he held his breath, and groaned aloud as he caught his breath. He realized he had been too harsh to her and decided to relieve himself with a walk, donning a robe as he exited.

Outside, the hall was colder than he remembered, but the presence of another woman made the blood from his manhood relapse to his cheeks.

"Bellatrix."

She glared at him, and he knew she had an idea what might have transpired. Her gaze shifted from his face to his attire and back.

"Did you see-?"

"Iyra? I did." She answered quickly before turning away, "excuse me, your grace."

"Wait." Rhaegar called. She stopped in her tracks, without looking back. "There's… nothing happened with her. I would just like to make that clear." And then he felt more stupid for having to defend himself. It was a strange effect she had on him.

Bellatrix turned with the coldest look he has ever seen on her. "Whatever happens is none of my business. Excuse me, my lord, I trust you will have a good night." She left without another word. Feeling foolish, Rhaegar cursed under his breath and returned to his chambers.