Prologue

Harrenhal, Shore of The God's Eye, Riverlands

Stepping from the little skiff that had ferried across the God's Eye, Rhaegar breathed a heavy sigh. His lifelong melancholy weighed particularly heavy upon him tonight.

"My Prince. What said the Green Man, that his words weigh on you so?"

He turned to the speaker and met his violet gaze with his own. Arthur Dayne, his oldest friend, one of the 4 Kingsguard loyal to him above his father – who had guarded his greatest secret, the secret that had set his kingdom ablaze.

"Nought more than the self-same recriminations that have plagued me since this war began, Arthur. Words that tore away the veil of hubris and obsession that I used to justify my interpretation of Prophecy of Ice and Fire; that made me believe I could twist the designs of the Gods to mine own whims. All that I shall reap now, my old friend, will be the fruit of that arrogance."

As he spoke, Rhaegar sat down on the log Arthur had dragged close to the shore to serve as a seat. Cradling his head in his hands, he resumed speaking. "And now I must watch, from whichever Hell I am condemned to, as the Gods add my kingdom to this bloody harvest. I was a fool."

Before Arthur could do more than clasp Rhaegar's shoulder to stave off the self-loathing he could hear in his liege's voice, another voice intruded. "The Many-Faced God may yet grant wisdom to one who has seen the error of his ways before the eleventh hour."

The voice was as smooth and soft as silk as it poured through the two mens' ears. Arthur moved like greased quicksilver, Dawn clearing its sheath in an instant and suffusing the surroundings in soft, white glow. "Who goes? Show yourself!" Rhaegar, though silent, had loosed his own blade within the sheath, his violet gaze sweeping the treeline and hoping to catch a glimpse of the voyeur as a warning for Arthur.

"There is little cause for hostility this night, Sword of the Morning, Silver Prince. A man is not here to engage in violence."

Rhaegar's eyes narrowed at the distinctive Braavosi speech pattern. As the man stepped out of the trees not 10 feet ahead, he quickly took in his appearance. He was dressed in a pitch black, full sleeved coat that was lined with a dark green fur; a difference only apparent in the light of Dawn, and he realised that the colours hid him completely within a forest on such a moonless night. His hair was black and his skin almost the same shade as a Dornishman. But his eyes were a surprisingly vibrant shade of blue.

Gaze shifting down, Rhaegar spied a form fitting, matte black cuirass and greaves over trousers of tough, but flexible cloth. Slight bulges at the sleeves gave away the likely presence of vambraces. Rhaegar briefly puzzled over the lack of a visible weapon until he spotted the small golden symbol that formed the buckle holding together the many belts at the man's waist.

"An eagle… your speech… have Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn arranged for me to receive a Gift from you, Faceless Man?" Focused as he was on the assassin before him, Rhaegar still felt Arthur tense up even further. Even with the advantage of numbers and arms, neither was under the impression that any man of the House of Black and White would die easily.

The Faceless Man smiled. "Nay Silver Prince. As this one said, this one has no wish to engage in hostilities tonight. Indeed, this one wished to speak with a Silver Prince on matters of great import – matters of fate, destiny and fealty."

Rhaegar could feel Arthur's bewilderment as clear as his own. Fate? Destiny? Fealty? "Since when does your order concern itself with such things, Faceless Man?"

Another enigmatic smile. "A prince asks this man 'when', when he should ask 'why'. However, before this man answers, perhaps the silent observer would care to reveal himself? As this one has said before, no hostile intent is meant tonight." Rhaegar and Arthur tensed again. Another observer?!

They followed the Faceless Man's gaze to their right as a man in a dark green, hooded cloak with antlers attached to his cowl stepped from the tree line to their left. A green man. "This one shall assume the Green Man observes through a man's eyes?" Though shadowed by the cowl, the slight red glow that came from the general area of the green man's eyes was all the answer the Faceless Man seemed to need. He turned back to an increasingly wary Rhaegar.

"It is true that a Prince made a grievous error in preempting prophecy. And that a Prince must bear certain consequences for it. However, a Prince also acted in free will, outside the design of Fate. This allowed the Many-Faced God to intervene where before he was unable."

Arthur's stance had loosened, his blade pointed down and away but still firmly gripped, ready to be brought to bear in an instant. As a Dayne of Starfall, he held to the Seven and knew not what to make of this man, this assassin, who so cavalierly claimed to know the actions of Gods. Rhaegar had similarly relaxed, his brow furrowed as his mind raced to decipher the many hidden implications of the Faceless Man's statement.

Surprisingly, it was the green man who spoke first, in a voice that sounded like 2 men speaking, thoroughly unnerving Prince and Knight in the process. "Intervene?"

The Faceless Man turned to look at the green man. "Explain, assassin. There are strict laws that restrain their ability to interfere in this or any mortal matter. Else this state of affairs would have been avoided entirely. As far as we are aware, none of the exceptions that might allow for such intervention were met. How does the God of Death involve himself in these matters?" Arthur and Rhaegar looked back and forth between these two men who spoke on behalf of Gods. Arthur, though not particularly pious, was about ready to start muttering verses from the Seven-Pointed Star and the Warrior's Way; though he doubted their effectiveness so close to a bastion of the First Men and their Old Gods.

The enigmatic smile never so much as shifted.

"Quite simple, Green Man. The war all present are concerned with is more than a War for the Dawn. Its outcome will decide the fate of every man, woman and child on Planetos. If the Great Other should be victorious, should the Promised Prince fail – all life… all death shall be brought to an end. An endless unlife that will destroy the natural order as an eternal Winter reigns for eternity. In pre-empting… indeed, defying prophecy, a Prince has risked all this, for Westeros is torn asunder by the ambitions of petty, greedy men playing their foolish Game of Thrones."

Rhaegar's legs gave way as if they'd been cut from under him. He simply collapsed to a knee as the Faceless Man gave voice to the worst of his nightmares. Was this what he had unleashed? Had his hubris truly doomed not just his kingdom, but his race? A clatter drew his attention. Dawn had slipped from Arthur's suddenly numbed fingers as horror etched its way into every line of his face. Rhaegar fancied he even saw anger and well-earned rage aimed straight at him.

But the Faceless Man resumed speaking, and their eyes returned to him.

"And yet, it was this act of free will, even as it hastened the threat, cut the God of Death's restraints so that he may act to preserve his domain. And he has long since begun." Suddenly, the beach was bathed in a slight red glow that seemed to come from everywhere.

Rhaegar stood straight as the four looked up to see a star fall, trailing a tail of blood red light across the sky. The green man stumbled back as gazed up at the star.

"This one's greatest regards, Silver Prince. Your son has drawn his first breath this night – and with him, our greatest hope of salvation." There was a note of reverence in the Faceless Man's voice.

"What has He done?!" The green man's near shriek saw Rhaegar's sword clearing its sheath as Dawn appeared to simply materialize in Arthur's hands. "We all felt that! What has your God done?!" The enigmatic smile persisted. "Answer us!" The green man seemed to take a threatening step forward, his voice deepening, as the leaves rustled in the trees like whispers and ripples covered the God's Eye – all the while Rhaegar felt the conspicuous lack of a breeze upon his skin.

The smile vanished as the instrument of death (or would that be God of Death, Rhaegar faintly wondered) replaced the genial conversationalist. "Do not presume that this one is afraid of your power, Green Man. It holds little sway over him. Even your Gods know better than to harm one such as me." His tone was now clipped, cold… professional. Rhaegar decided to intervene before the Faceless Man did, in fact, engage in hostility.

"Peace! Both of you! Stand. Down. You said that there was to be no violence here, this day. Let it remain so, Faceless Man."

Silence continued to pervade the area for tense seconds. Eventually, the assassin relaxed as the green man stepped back. Rhaegar and Arthur took deep breaths as an invisible weight in the very air seemed to evaporate. The Faceless Man turned back to them, but the slight change in his stance showed that he hadn't completely taken his eye from the green man.

"This one thanks a Prince for reminding him of his purpose. This one is certain a Prince has questions. Ask, and this one shall answer as best he can."

Rhaegar placed his blade point first on the ground as he thought. Arthur relaxed as well, though his eyes were now firmly glued to green man, having been quite unnerved by the display of power he'd witnessed. Rhaegar's eyes quickly met thee Faceless Man's as he asked his first question.

"A son. You said my son had breathed his first tonight. Lyanna gave birth to a son?" The raw emotion was clear in Rhaegar's voice – joy, at the birth of his son and despair and fear, for his son would surely be hunted by Baratheon. The stag had bellowed his hatred for the Silver Prince across the kingdoms. Rhaegar had no faith that Eddard Stark would defend any child of his and Lyanna – not with that vile rumor that he had forced himself upon her. Rhaegar had privately scoffed when he'd heard it; Lyanna would have taken a dull, rusty knife and unmanned whichever fool tried that.

A kinder, more open smile presented itself upon the Faceless Man's visage. "Yes, o' Silver Prince. At least in that, you succeeded. The Prince Who Was Promised was born from the union of Ice and Fire." A wide, beaming grin took up residence on Rhaegar's face as Arthur clapped him on the shoulders and wished him congratulations. Then, Rhaegar paled. "My Prince?" Arthur became concerned as his prince turned the color of sour milk. The barest whisper reached his ears – "I wasn't there to help her through the birth. Forget Baratheon, Lyanna will kill me."

Arthur promptly turned away so as not to burst out laughing in his friend's face. The Faceless Man's smile had a tinge of wicked glee to it and he could have sworn he heard chuckles from the green man. Arthur spun back as he heard Rhaegar pull his sword from the ground. He saw that the blade had been levelled at the Faceless Man.

"You spoke of my son in connection to the God of Death's machinations. If you will not answer the Green Man, you will answer me – what has your God done to my son?" Arthur had heard such anger in his liege's voice but once. Rhaegar had just found out how his father would beat and rape his wife; Arthur and Ser Barristan had heard Prince swear vengeance upon his father as he watched the Maester treat the Queen. His cold fury now put even that episode in the shadow. Arthur pitied the fools who believed that Rhaegar had little Dragon's Blood in him.

The Faceless Man raised his arms. "Peace, Silver Prince. This one shall explain. But rest assured, no harm has come to the Prince's boy." A glare of blazing amethyst told him to continue. The assassin obliged. "The Promised Prince would have faced great challenges in achieving his ordained destiny. The machinations of the Game and the petty jealousies of narrow-minded fools would have cost him much. To counter this, the God of Death has empowered him, personally and in other ways."

"How?" Rhaegar and the green man spoke in equally clipped voices.

"The God has placed limits on what this one can say, for there are more ears listening that even you know, Green Man. But he can tell you some. The God has re-established control over the Brotherhood. Through his Oracles, he has named the son of the Prince his anointed champion. Always will the child be guarded – he shall have no cause to fear the shadows, for this one and his Brothers shall protect him from that which walks within them.

"The boy himself shall be empowered. As he grows, his strength, speed and constitution shall grow to be greater than an ordinary man. He shall grasp the art of arms as if he were born for it, because he is. His mind shall be just as great, giving him the wisdom and insight to see as a general, as a king must." Arthur and Rhaegar were silent, their eyes wide and jaws ever so slightly hung in awe of the blessings the God of Death had given Rhaegar's son. The green man however, spoke.

"That isn't all. While admittedly impressive and useful, the God of Death would not use what little freedom to act he was granted on such singular changes. Nor would they account for the shift we felt. What else has he done?" His voice was laden in suspicion and Rhaegar once again shifted to worry and wariness – especially because that glint of wicked glee had returned.

"The God of Death's final blessing was also his greatest. This one can only say this – Magic."

"What?!" All three men exploded in unison. Rhaegar continued. "Do you mean to tell me that the God of Death reawakened the magic in the Targaryen and Stark bloodlines within my son?"

"In a way." Came the simple answer.

"No." The men turned to green man. "No. The God of Death could not have been so careless. To reawaken magic is to risk the Great Other and his servants growing even stronger. To say nothing of what those fools to the far East might do. Why would he do this?"

The assassin's eyes narrowed. "The Green Man would do well to mind his tongue when he speaks of the God of Death. And he has not been careless, as the Green Man put it. While certain skills of the bloodlines of Ice and Fire were awoken within the child, the gift of Magic given to the child was much greater than anything that has ever been seen on Planetos. Furthermore…" Here the Faceless Man stopped, as thunder cracked on a cloudless night and he bent over in a coughing fit.

"The God restrains this one's tongue. This one cannot say further. Rest assured, there is little chance the Great Other or the servants of other powers could gain much from that blessing." Rhaegar turned to the green man, by whom he had begun to judge this world of divine machinations. Since his only response was a slight "Tch!" before looking back at the Faceless Man, Rhaegar had to assume he was being told the truth.

He sighed. "Very well. I must agree that the blessings my son has received are indeed wonderous. However, superhuman physical attributes and magic will not avail my infant son just yet and even your Brotherhood would struggle to secure him against all the Seven Kingdoms should Baratheon win. Shall I arrange for Lyanna to sail for Essos with my son and the Kingsguard now, where you can better protect them both?" The Faceless Man tilted his head to the side, his eyes flickering around as he thought his answer through.

"That would be unwise." Strangely, it was the green man who answered Rhaegar. The prince and Arthur looked at him in confusion. Until now, the green man appeared to be as mystified and off-guard as they – answers from him were a little jarring. The Faceless Man simply raised an eyebrow. The green man snorted. "The God of Death's interference may have muddied the waters where our Sight is concerned, but the immediate future is little changed. And certain conclusions can be drawn about events beyond that, given what you have told us."

Rhaegar took on a bittersweet countenance. Some small part of him had hoped that he might actually meet his son thanks to these events; but it seemed his fate, no matter how the Green Man had prevaricated, was inevitable. His attention returned to the green man. "While the Old Gods now restrain our tongues as well, we can tell you than the child will be safe here in Westeros. He also has certain roles to play here. Leaving would be counterproductive, to say the least. We are also certain the Brotherhood has begun to make arrangements to protect him more directly?" The enigmatic smile returned as the Faceless Man inclined his head.

"Very well, then." Rhaegar took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He looked up as the first light of dawn struck the beach from the east. "Then we had all best get to our tasks. Many preparations need be made."

The green man nodded and faded back into the treeline as Arthur sheathed Dawn and walked over to the horses, preparing them for the journey. Rhaegar looked over to where the Faceless Man was walking for the treeline.

"Wait." The assassin turned around. "Baratheon… Varys tells us that he has sworn to end the Targaryen line. Your God has ensured the safety of Lyanna's son. But Elia, Rhaenys, my mother, brother and mother's unborn child – my heart fills with dread to think of their fate at Baratheon's hand. Or worse, Tywin Lannister's. My fate is sealed, this I understand, and I know I likely have little right to ask this of you. But if my son is your God's champion, can you protect the remainder of his family?"

The Faceless Man regarded Rhaegar for a long moment, as the sun continued to rise into the sky. Then he plucked a pouch from within his cloak and threw it to Rhaegar. He caught it, hearing the clink of metal within. He looked at it, then the Faceless Man in confusion.

"Whosoever bears one of these tokens to the House of Black and White, shall have sanctuary within the Brotherhood, until the God commands otherwise." With that, the Faceless Man raised the hood of his cloak and strode away on silent feet into the shadows of the forest, vanishing from view in seconds.

Arthur walked over as Rhaegar opened the pouch and teased out one of the tokens to examine. It was circular, 1 ½ inches across and made of what appeared to be bronze. On one side was the eagle of the Brotherhood, wings outstretched and talons forward as if to snatch some unsuspecting prey. The Titan of Braavos loomed behind it. The background was checkered in alternating darker and lighter bronze – evoking the iconic door to the House of Black and White in Braavos.

Then Rhaegar turned the coin over and both men blinked in confusion. The symbol there was strange and unknown – even to the extensively read prince. But even so, it evoked a sense of… something, within them. Calm, trepidation, wonder, fear and a sense of immense age and power filled them as their eyes traced it.

A circle, encased in a triangle and bisected by a straight line.