Rhaegar sat in the ruins of Summerhall pouring all of his roiling emotions into the strings of his harp. He had not been sleeping well of late, waking up in a cold sweat nearly every morning. His dreams were filled with images of death and sorrow and of a great darkness spilling over The Wall into the seven kingdoms. Rhaegar was well versed in the history of his family and of the prophesies that surrounded them. At one time he thought he was the fulfillment of the prophecy himself, but he no longer held to those foolish notions. He would be content to ensure that it came to pass in time to save humanity from the threat of the great Other and the coming Long Night. With that in mind, the fact that the specific meaning of his dreams still eluded him was driving him mad.
There of course was good news to be had, his wife was with child and would give birth in just a few moons. The joy of it was almost enough to drive away the darkness that consumed his life otherwise. He was excited to be a father and to raise his children to be better than he and his father, he would raise them to be the greatest generation of Targayens since the time of Aegon the Conqueror. That was his role in the great tapestry of history, and he would gladly play it to the best of his abilities.
The passing thought of his father drew his mind to the upcoming tournament to be hosted at Harrenhal. He had been watching his father descend further and further into madness ever since the Defiance of Duskendale, and knew he had to do something about it. Hopefully this gathering could be the beginning of a better era for the kingdom. Not that he particularly wanted to grasp the title of king from his father, but if he didn't, who knew what evils would be done in his father's name. It was his duty to the people of his kingdom to do something about it. Though, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. When Rhaegar last visited the Red Keep, he saw the eunuch watching him with an inciteful gaze. He wondered if Varys' little birds had perhaps sung a song of disloyalty and betrayal. Would the Master of Whispers tell his father? Rhaegar was too far along in his plans to stop now, and so he could only hope and pray that he would be successful.
Eventually, his friend and confidant Ser Arthur Dayne approached.
"My prince, it's getting late, perhaps we should turn in for the night. You should return to Dragonstone to be with Elia when her time comes."
"Thank you, Arthur." Rhaegar didn't know what he would do if he didn't have Arthur by his side. He was source of strength that Rhaegar could rely on in the most trying of times. The two men left the ruins and sat down for a simple meal before bedding down for the night. As Rhaegar faded into sleep, the dreams came once again.
Rhaegar found himself in the throne room of the Red Keep, the Iron Throne towering over him. All around he saw the blurred figures of hundreds of courtiers, and looking up towards the seat of his ancestor, he could only make out a shadow of the king. Only one person was clearly in focus in his vision, and that man was on his knees and bound in chains. He had shock white hair, a single good red eye accompanied by a scarred and empty eye socket, and a blood red mark across the right side of his face. Rhaegar knew that there was only one man who ever fit that description, Lord Bloodraven. The voice of the king called out, accusing him of deceiving and murdering Aenys Blackfire and giving him the choice of dying by the sword or taking the black. Defiantly, Lord Bloodraven called out.
"What I have done, I have done for the sake of the realm. Surrendering what was left of my honor was but a small price to pay for ensuring the peace and stability of the seven kingdoms. I made the hard choice and did what had to be done, and I find no fault in that. I will take the black and will continue to do what I must to protect your lands, your grace."
The world around the prince faded to black and soon he found himself in a primal and wild forest of white trees with red leaves, a hundreds if not thousands of faces leered, cried, laughed, and screamed all around him. Ahead he could see light shining through a gap in the tress and pushed through the dense brush towards it. When he entered the clearing, he saw a powerful stag and a giant grey wolf circling each other. They stopped and charged each other, but just before they clashed there was a deafening roar as a mighty dragon, scales black as obsidian and eyes like blood red rubies, descended on the pair. The mighty claws of the dragon grabbed the wolf and flew off into the south.
Once again, the scenery changed, and the prince found himself atop a tower where amidst a terrible storm, the dragon and the wolf were locked in some kind of contest. Frost coated the ground around the wolf as it snarled and snapped at it's foe, an intense winter storm violently swirled around the beast that would flay the flesh from any lesser being who dared approached. The dragon breathed flame at the wolf time and time again, but the fires could simply not overcome the impenetrable cold. Rhaegar then saw a man, walking out of from where the fire and ice met. This man wielded a burning sword, and a crown of fire adorned his brow. At once Rhaegar new that this was the prince that was promised.
The scene went black once more and the price found himself awash in a sea of darkness. He heard the flapping of wings and the cries of hundreds of crows. Then a voice called out to him, old and tired.
"The prince that is promised will be born of ice and fire, or death will walk freely through all the lands with none to oppose it. Throw away your honor and do what must be done." As the voice's call echoed in his mind Rhaegar felt as if he was falling.
Rhaegar awoke, gasping for air. Unlike all of his other dreams, this one was not fading from memory, but to ensure that he did not forget what he saw, he scrambled to find his journal and write it all down. A sinking feeling started forming in his stomach as he pondered what it all meant. Could he do what had to be done? He would have to spend much time in the libraries of Dragonstone and the Red Keep. He had to decipher the true meaning of this dream, the fate of the seven kingdoms hung in the balance.
The moons came and went and Robert settled into his role as Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. During this time, he spent far more time interacting with his bannermen than he ever remembered doing in his previous life. As a result he had forged much stronger bonds with the lords sworn to him. Surely they would be less likely to follow the dragons in the event of a Rebellion, not that he intended to let that happen. Robert also grew more accustomed to holding court and hearing petitioners, and while he still felt like it was a chore more than anything else, it grew easier over time. He couldn't help but feel more than a little proud of himself when he managed to sit through one entire court session without having to be reminded of what somewhat had just said. Though when he mentioned it to Stannis, his younger brother was quick to point out that it was also the shortest courts he had held.
Robert knew that things would be different with his brothers, but he had never imagined just how much Lyanna's prodding would change his family's dynamic. If Robert was honest, he was half expecting, half hoping Stannis would turn out to be a blue-eyed Eddard; quietly supporting him in his misadventures, providing warnings and wisdom as needed. That was of course not what he got. His relationship with Stannis was turning out to be far more adversarial. It seemed as if the confrontation on the battlements had set a precedent for Stannis to voice his opinions openly and sometimes quite forcefully. It frustrated Robert, at first, but as they continued to butt heads, he couldn't help but feel a little proud of his brother for coming out and asserting himself. Over the course of their repeated clashes, Robert was able to see his brother's strong sense of justice as well as how much he truly cared for the people of the Stormlands, highborn and lowborn alike. After clashing for nearly a full turn of the moon, Robert finally managed to get through to Stannis that they both wanted the same thing, and that he relied on Stannis to help him make the right decisions. Robert realized that his relationship with Stannis would never be like what Ned had with his siblings, and he honestly doubted whether or not Stannis was capable of that kind of relationship with anyone. That being said, Robert had grown to appreciate his brother far more than he had in his previous life, and he took the time to make sure Stannis knew it.
Before returning to Storm's End, Robert hadn't really put much thought into what he wanted his relationship with Renly to look like, and it was simple enough to begin with. They would see each other at meals, and sometimes Robert would check in on him if he had time in his busy schedule. It was Stannis, however, who pointed out that if Robert truly meant to be a better brother, he would have to actually make time for their younger sibling. After a bit of yelling back and forth, Robert was forced to concede the point. As a result, Robert began making a concerted effort to spend time with his younger brother. It would be a flat out lie if Robert said he didn't enjoy the extra time spent with Renly, and it reminded him of time spent with little Mya. The young boy was incredibly energetic and charismatic which led to him being able to get away with quite a bit of mischief. Robert found himself chasing Renly around the keep and playfully wrestling the young boy; teaching him what was and wasn't appropriate play just like his father had done for him. Robert didn't notice the shift in his relationship with Renly until Ser Cortnay teased him about it. Of course, in the moment Robert tried to deny it, but as the weeks went on, he had to admit that the knight was right. When he really thought about it, Robert was actually proud of the new role he was stepping into. After all, one of his goals in this second chance he had been given was to be a better father, why not get some practice in with his little brother?
Even though he was happily spending plenty of time with his brothers by blood, he still dearly missed his brother by choice. Not only that but he missed the young lady he had worked to win over. So, despite the sense pride he felt at the progress he had been making, he grew increasingly more restless as the great tourney drew near. To his surprise, he received Robert received a raven from Ser Rogers requesting permission for he and his wife to travel with him to attend the tourney. Robert couldn't help but chuckle a little seeing that the letter was clearly penned by Lady Branda and simply signed and sealed by the Knight. Obviously, she didn't want another miscommunication. Robert was quick to give his permission and pondered the request. House Rogers was not at Harrenhal the first time around, and he wondered what other small changes would arise as a result of his return. He was quick to give up on his speculation as there was no use worrying about the small things. Regardless he would enjoy the opportunity he had to get to know Lyanna's family.
Finally, the day arrived, and Robert practically bound from his bed to get ready for the trip. He couldn't have been more anxious and excited to leave. This was his chance. If he could just unhorse Rhaegar and keep him away from Lyanna, he just might be able to prevent her abduction and the rebellion that followed. Thoughts of the price stoked an old hatred in his heart. He had killed the prince once at the Trident and a thousand times over in his dreams. That moment should have been his greatest triumph, but it was sullied by the loss of Lyanna and everything that followed. Even now, that hate soured his opinion of the prince, and he knew he would have a hard time playing nice should they meet at the tourney. A quiet voice in the back of his mind told him that the prince had not yet committed any crime in this life, that he would need to work with the prince to overthrow the mad king after rebellion was averted. But more often than not that voice was drowned out by the sickening crunch of the spike of his hammer piercing the prince's gaudy breastplate.
Robert shook his dark thoughts and finished getting ready. After breaking his fast he went out to the courtyard where everyone was gathering and preparing for the trip. He would be travelling with Stannis, Ser Cortnay, Walder, Ser Harrold and his wife Lady Branda, and the dozen or so members of his household necessary to serve him and his companions as was expected of a lord of his station. Renly, however, was still far too young to make the trip and his uncle would be staying behind to watch over his home. Robert noticed his youngest brother standing near the group with a frown. He walked over and ruffled Renly's hair.
"What's got you down?"
"You're going away." The boy mumbled, pushing his brother's hand off his head.
"We are, but we'll be back before you know it" Robert replied in an upbeat tone. Renly pouted and looked away.
"I wanna go too." The boy said defiantly.
"Renly, we talked about this, you're too small to go with us." Robert said in stern but exasperated tone.
"Not fair."
"It's fairly fair." Robert replied with a chuckle, Renly just huffed and looked away. "I'll tell you what dad used to tell me when he went off to King's Landing. It's your job to watch over the keep and make sure nobody takes it while I'm gone. It's a very important job, can you do that for me?"
Renly looked up at Robert, deep blue eyes staring into deep blue eyes, and then after a few moments he nodded.
"I knew I could count on you Renly. I'm sure no one would ever dare come take Storm's End with you on the walls. Come on show me how strong you are." In response, Renly smiled and flexed his arms. The young boy's mood had been turned around, and he suddenly pushed Robert before away yelling for Robert to catch him. Robert couldn't help but laugh a little before giving chase, there was still time to indulge his youngest brother before he left for more than a moon.
After finally saying their farewells, Robert's party finally rode out of the gates of Storm's End and began travelling North on the King's Road. The false spring had finally set in and as a result the travelling conditions were ideal. Even with the perfect weather and the fact they were travelling along some of the most well maintained portions of the king's road, the trip would still take nearly a fortnight to complete. Robert of course enjoyed the time away from the burdens and responsibilities of ruling and couldn't help but find himself in high spirits throughout the Journey.
As the days and nights passed, he spent quite a bit of time talking to Ser Harrold and Lady Branda. Apparently, Ser Harrold's father Ser Harwin Rogers had joined the Second Sons at the same time as Rodrik Stark, the Wandering Wolf. They forged a bond of brotherhood with one another during that time and kept in contact when they had returned to Westeros after their years of adventure is Essos. True to his title, Rodrick Stark never lost his wanderlust, and often visited Ser Harwin at his family's seat in Amberly, bringing his family along. It was during their first visit when Branda was a mere nine name days old that she and Harrold met and immediately decided that they hated each other. Harrold would spend an inordinate amount of time planning pranks and mischief to spring on Branda, and she, a formidable woman even at that age, would find ways to make sure he paid for it. Over the course of several visits their feelings evolved into playful affection, and eventually mutual attraction. Being the children of men well outside the lines of succession, there was no real expectation for them to marry for political reasons, and their fathers were more than happy to see their families united. Now their own children were grown and had left home a few years ago. Their eldest son had left for Essos as his grandfather had, and their daughter had gone back to the North of all places and had married a Flint.
Robert grew to appreciate the older knight's unique sense of humor as the miles stretched on, and he particularly loved how it grated on his brother's nerves. His humor was far from the witty rhymes or the scathing satire popular with fools in most courts, nor was it the crude japes told by smallfolk in taverns across the realm. Ser Harrold's jokes often had the most obvious or inane punchlines imaginable. It seemed like Ser Harrold got a kick from making Stannis grimace and grind his teeth. The knight eventually admitted that he enjoyed seeing the young man's reactions as his wife had long since grown immune to his antics. Lady Branda, for her part, seemed to appreciate that her loving husband had a new target for his incessant japes.
While on the road, Robert made sure not to neglect his or Walder's martial training. Something that surprised him was when Ser Harrold joined them in their morning training. As soon as he entered the impromptu sparring ring, the mischievous smirk was replaced with a cold concentration. The change in demeanor threw Robert off and made him more cautious than he probably would have been otherwise. Ser Harrold quickly proved to be a cunning and deceptive swordsman. It took Robert a few clashes to adjust, but eventually Robert's youth, strength, and hard-earned skill overwhelmed the older knight. Robert whole heartedly believed that to truly know a man you need to cross blades with them, and from then on, he treated the knight of House Rogers with a little bit more respect. Walder seemed to soak up every lesson the veteran warrior had to offer.
Their travelling party grew in number as they met other lords travelling up the king's road to attend the grand tourney. Robert was surprised to find Lords Fell and Buckler, of all people, travelling together. It seemed as if the bad blood between the two houses had finally been settled and they even announced that a betrothal had been arranged between Lord Fell's young heir Silveraxe and Lord Buckler's youngest daughter. The soon to be married couple were travelling to Harrenhal with their fathers as well so they could get to know each other better. Robert couldn't help but be overly pleased with himself as he was presented with even more evidence that he was making positive changes with his second chance, and happily drank in celebration of the union.
His mood however darkened as they grew closer to King's Landing. His travelling companions were suggesting that they stay in the city for one or two nights to recover from the journey through the Kingswood. Robert was not particularly keen on this idea as he had no desire to spend any time in that fetid den of vipers. He had spent almost two decades in that nasty place and remembered what it had done to him. If he had his way, he would never again set foot in the capitol again. True, he could have put his foot down as their liege lord and force them to keep going, but he knew that it wasn't the right thing to do. That of course did little to improve his mood. As Robert grew more agitated, Stannis, of all people, decided to address it. Riding up close to Robert, Stannis leaned over and spoke to his brother in a subdued tone.
"Robert, you haven't been yourself as late." Stannis said in an even tone. Robert looked at his brother for a moment, before grunting and looking away. Stannis, undeterred, continued on. "I'm well aware that you are eager to see your friend and betrothed, but will spending a few nights in King's Landing really make that much of a difference?"
"Fuck the city, it smells like shit, and it would be a benefit to everyone if it just burned to the ground. We'd be better off camping on the road rather than going through those gates." Robert barked back.
"Yes, I am sure the hundreds of thousands of people who call the place home would feel blessed if it all burned." Stannis fired back with the same intensity. "What's wrong with you? Did some whore rob you last you visited the Street of Silk?"
Robert's arm flew out and grabbed Stannis by the collar of his doublet pulling him close.
"Say that again brother." Robert ground out in a low threatening tone. Stannis returned the threat with a piercing gaze and a straight face indicating that he was neither amused nor intimidated by Robert's reaction. Robert then noticed just the slightest gleam of mirth in his brother's expression. Letting Stannis go, Robert let out a tired chuckle and slumped in his saddle.
"My brother Stannis is trying to be funny."
"Yes, perhaps Ser Harrold's incessant japes are wearing on me. I don't think it suits me." Stannis replied in an even tone. Robert couldn't help but laugh at that as well.
"As for your question, no, but I do have bad memories of the last time I visited the city." Robert said carefully. "Memories that I would rather not share." He added quickly as he saw Stannis about to ask the obvious question.
"Fine, but it is not becoming of a lord of your standing to act like this in front of his bannermen." Stannis said firmly while readjusting his collar.
"Yes, gods forbid I get to fucking act the way I want, whenever I want." Robert grumbled. Stannis' only reply was a severe gaze. Robert lifted his hands in defeat. "Fine, I'll play the part of the Stoic and powerful lord who is always in control."
They heard another rider approaching and turned to see that Ser Cortnay had come to check on them.
"Is everything alright my lords?" Their friend asked.
"Yes, Stannis just asked me to inspect his doublet for a moment." Robert replied with a smile and a chuckle. It was obvious that Stannis was uncomfortable with Robert's lie, but he didn't say anything about it, and Ser Cortnay knew better than to press the matter.
Eventually, they arrived in the city and found accommodations befitting their station. Robert had to admit that the lodgings were nice enough, but that didn't make his stay here any more desirable. He turned in early that evening and his dreams were once again tormented by visions of his past and a future that he could not let come to pass. He awoke early in the morning feeling barely rested. He decided to slip away from his travelling companions and made his way to the Sept of Baelor, hoping to find some peace there. The marble dome and the seven crystal towers gleamed in the rising sun as he ascended the steps. Robert thought it looked just as ostentatious as it ever had. Regardless, it was still a sept. About halfway up to the sept, he stopped, recognizing the spot where Ned had been executed in his dreams. Anger boiled in him, and he had to take a few moments to regain his composure before continuing on. As he crossed the threshold into the hall of lamps and took in the beauty of the color leaded glass something felt wrong. Since his return, he had visited many septs across the realm, and none could compare to the pure wealth and power on display here. At the same time none could compare to the sense of wrongness that hung in the air here. Robert was by no means a great mind on spiritual matters and was far from able to pin down what exactly he felt, but in all the other septs he had prayed in, he had always felt a sense of peace and from which he could draw strength. That feeling was absent from this place, it just felt empty, like an old tomb. Robert grunted, turned around, and left. King's landing truly was the worst city in all of Westeros.
Fortunately, the rest of their time in the city passed quickly and with little fanfare. Robert's spirits lifted almost immediately upon crossing under the Dragon's Gate. The days and miles passed by as they travelled north to the great castle of Harrenhal. Eventually, the keep was spotted on the horizon and Robert just barely kept himself from spurring his mount into a gallop towards it. That being said, his patience was being tried as he was reminded of just how huge the castle was. For hours the mighty keep loomed before them, slowly growing closer with each mile. They finally arrived at the gates of Harrenhal just before Robert's patience wore out. Hundreds of banners flew within the grounds, and his eyes darted back and forth looking for the grey wolf of House Stark. His search was interrupted by Stannis calling out to him.
"Brother, I assume you wish for me to handle getting the household settled in while you search for your betrothed?" Only the slightest hint of annoyance was found in his voice.
"Yeah, go do that, thanks." Robert said with a halfhearted wave of acknowledgment. Stannis just gave a dutiful nod and rode back to the rest of the group.
After a few more minutes of searching the vast grounds of Harrenhal, Robert finally spotted what he was looking for. He couldn't help but let out a joyful laugh as he made his way towards the direwolf flapping in the gentle breeze. This is where he would change the everything.
AN: I'm Back, and Robert finally made it to Harrenhal! I don't know why, but I had a really hard time writing this chapter, but I am glad I got through it. Thank you for everyone who has read and left comments. They really do help and inspire me to keep going. So the next few chapters will cover all the shenanigans and goings on of the great Tourney. Will Robert unhorse Rhaegar and save the seven kingdoms? Well, this is ASOIAF so it won't be that simple. Anyway I'm excited to keep moving along.