Rhaegar II

Prince Rhaegar rode on his destrier through the camp, the wind whipping about him. Too many wounded. Too many dead. To be sure, they made the rebels bleed more than they had bled themselves, but still, it was too much blood spilt for his liking. Lives cut short by the strings of uncaring fate. How many farmers would never return to their fields? How many fathers never to return to their… Rhaegar sighed. Nothing could be done. He remembered the ultimate purpose of all this war and death - in the end, it was but a small price to pay. How many more would die in the cold darkness of the winter to come? Sacrifices must be made, and if one life now would save one hundred lives, it was a price Rhaegar was willing to pay a hundred times over.

The camp was neat and organized, the dragon-banner of his house waving above it. Orderly rows of tents made way for wide pathways which men and horses walked through. The atmosphere was an expectant one - the men were ready to move on. The last battle was a hard-fought one, but the men were recovering and eager to return home for the harvest. The dragon-prince stopped at one of the tents for the wounded highborn. He walked inside. A brazier kept the inside of the room warm, and wounded knights in various states of injury were laid out on rows of white cots (some splattered with now-dry blood). Maesters in their grey robes shifted about, giving ointments and tinctures to the wounded. There was some stir at Rhaegar's entrance, the wounded soldiers and the maesters bowing their heads. Among the other knights, in no place of especial honor, Ser Barristan Selmy was laid out, bandages wrapped around his head and his arms.

"Prince Rhaegar." Ever the dutiful knight, Ser Barristan tried to get up to bow, but his face winced in pain and he fell back down on the cot.

Rhaegar smiled. The exploits of Ser Barristan the Bold, Knight of the Kingsguard, were already sung from the North to Dorne. The man had single-handedly slain the last of the Blackfyre pretenders, Maelys the Monstrous, cutting through the Golden Company like paper. He had saved the King during the Defiance of Duskendale, though much grief came from that later. If there was any man worthy to wear that white cloak, it was him. Barristan reminded Rhaegar of the noble knights of old, like ones in the stories and the songs he loved as a boy - Ryam Redwyne, Serwyn of the Mirror Shield, and Aemon the Dragonknight. A pity he was born in an age unworthy of a knight like him.

"Rest, Ser Barristan. You fought well." Rhaegar said.

"Thank you, my lord." Barristan said with a strained smile. "To what do I owe this visit?"

The Targaryen drew up a chair and sat down. "The truth is, Ser, I need advice. My father has… exiled me." Rhaegar sighed, handing him the letter from his father banishing him under pain of death. "Things must have gotten worse with him since I last left King's Landing." Barristan handed him back the letter. Rhaegar threw it in the fire. "It's a shame it had to be this way. If only Aerys wasn't at Harrenhal, I would have called the Council and this would be over." The letter went up in smoke, the wax seal melting in the flames. He brushed some of his silver-pale hair out of his face.

"It's useless to reminisce on what might have been," Barristan noted.

Rhaegar agreed. "What's important now is what we do about the crisis."

Barristan leaned in towards Rhaegar. "You are in command of the largest army on the field at this moment. Send out ravens to the lords of Westeros. The realm hates Aerys. They will fight for you."

Rhaegar shook his head. "When word of this gets out I won't have an army. Who fought at the Trident? Do you think Prince Lewyn and the Dornish will fight when the King has his niece as a hostage? Those lords of the Crownlands and those the Riverlands who are loyal to the crown may fight, that's true. Most of the Tyrell army is in the South, besieging Stannis Baratheon. If I recall them north, the armies of the Stormlands will now enter the fray - and after the Trident, they can hardly be expected to fight for the man who killed Robert Baratheon."

If only we hadn't met on the Trident. Maybe then the rebel lords would have bent the knee and the two armies could march together on King's Landing. But for now, that door was in all likelihood, closed.

"And no not forget that this young Lord Stark has declared himself King in the North." Rhaegar scoffed. "He will not fight alongside us." Fool. House Targaryen has united the Seven Kingdoms into one and ruled for centuries. He would not see the realm shattered again.

Ser Barristan leaned back, deep in thought. "What army does Aerys have? Whatever few men remained in the Crownlands, who shouldn't number many. Dorne may declare for Aerys - but they will be slow to send soldiers and slower to fight. And the Lannisters - only the gods know what Tywin will do. Prince Rhaegar, they only have a handful of men."

Rhaegar mused to himself. "I am more worried by this Eddard Stark. We could besiege King's Landing - but who knows how long that could take to starve them out. Meanwhile, the rebel armies will be regrouping and reinforcing themselves. We can either defeat them in the Riverlands now - or wait for them to retreat north of the Neck or into the Vale of Arryn. It would be madness to wade an army through that gods-forsaken swamp, or besiege the Bloody Gate."

Barristan spoke up. "If the Stark will not bend the knee… We must first fight him and his rabble. King Aerys can wait - he won't be leaving the Red Keep anytime soon. He is isolated, with few men about him. Eddard still has a large army. We can crush him, and then turn east and march on King's Landing. You do not want to be King over a kingdom rent in two."

"There is sense in this plan. We strike while the rebel army is still reeling from their losses. We should send messages out to the lords of Westeros. Perhaps we can turn some to our side. Very well then." Rhaegar rose from the chair. "Take your time to rest, Ser Barristan. It is well deserved. When you are ready to take up your sword again, tell me."

"Assuredly, my Prince." Barristan said hopefully.

To the Lords of the Westeros ~

A darkness is enshrouding these Seven Kingdoms. King Aerys is no longer worthy to sit on the Iron Throne. For the high crimes of Aerys Targaryen, he is clearly no longer fit to be the ruler of Westeros. I beseech you, lords, to aid me in putting this threat to our realm down. It appears that Aerys Targaryen has exiled me for nothing but base accusations and false suspicions - such an act is only one of a madman. The matter of the renegade Lord Eddard Stark and his followers is also a matter pressing to the Realm. The Seven Kingdoms are under One Throne, and the authority of that throne shall not be usurped, no matter what man sits upon it. Therefore, my lords, I call upon you to raise your banners in defense of your lands and your realm from both the Mad King and the traitor to the North. I await your support.

~ King Rhaegar I Targaryen, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm

King Rhaegar I Targaryen, First of His Name, lifted the quill from the paper. He handed it to the Maester to his side. "Send the ravens to all of our allies, north and south." Sitting back in the chair, he pondered the consequences of his action. If Aerys' previous suspicions were based on whispers and rumor, this definitely would be a blatant act of defiance. Though he had no desire to sit on the Iron Throne, it was another burden he would shoulder so that the monster that sat on it now could be cast down. He looked into the fire. Sacrifices must be made. No one had promised him that this path would be easy. He was the best hope of the realm now. Rhaegar just hoped that he would be enough.

It was brought to my attention that I switched Brandon and Rickard Stark a few times in the last chapter and made a few other errors, I went back and fixed those. If any of you guys catch any other errors like that in future chapters just let me know lol. Hope you enjoyed! ~ Moradhel