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The Dragons' Rebirth	By : StarLightMassacre Category: A through F > A Song of Ice and Fire Views: 40827 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter or A Song of Ice and Fire; all rights go to J. K. Rowling and to George R.R. Martin respectfully. I make no money for this piece of fictional writing and never will.

Chapter List
- 1-276AC
- 2-279AC
- 3-281AC
- 4-282AC
- 5-283AC to 284AC
- 6-306AC
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter Warnings: Mpreg, breastfeeding, incest, slash, non-explicit rape, imprisonment, torture, mutilation, male castration, execution.

Last Time

They did not go to their rooms however, instead they stole out of Maegor’s Holdfast, avoided White Sword Tower and then they snuck out of the Red Keep, keeping to the shadows and out of view of the patrolling Gold Cloaks, making it all the way down to Blackwater Bay where Rhaegar’s crew were preparing his ship to leave for Dragonstone.
Rhaegar escorted him onto the ship and got him settled in his personal cabin while he oversaw the preparations to launch the ship and within fifteen minutes they were sailing to Dragonstone and Rhaegar joined him in the cabin. It wasn’t a very long journey to Dragonstone, but still, the both of them found a very pleasurable way to pass the time until they docked again. Harry barely noticed the sailing as he laid in Rhaegar’s arms, his body slick with sweat and his lips bruised from Rhaegar’s impassioned kisses.

Chapter Three - 281AC

Ser Barristan Selmy missed the two older Princes. They had both sailed to Dragonstone a year and a half ago and they hadn’t been back since. They had ignored all summons from their Father to return to Kings Landing until last week, when Grand Maester Pycelle had announced that a raven had come and that the two Princes were coming back to Kings Landing. The week before, Lord Walter Whent had announced a tourney to be staged for his maiden daughter’s name day at the end of the year. Barristan smiled, there were no doubts in his mind about why Prince Rhaegar was coming home and it was entirely to do with the tourney at Harrenhal to be held later that year.
It had been bleak and at times very hard to stand stoically to the side and watch as the King he was sworn to protect burnt people alive on a mere whim. He still heard their screams, their pleads, as they swore on the Seven that they had not done whatever crime they had been accused of…Barristan had believed more than half of them, but the King’s justice these days was simple, if you were accused then you were guilty and your punishment was always death by fire. It was the same punishment for murderers, rapists, a street brawl or petty theft. It was a new level of madness that had taken over the realm and it stemmed from the lack of sanity of their King. If the King was unstable, then the realm suffered and the Seven Kingdoms were suffering now under King Aerys the second, but he and his sworn brothers had taken an oath to protect this mad, unstable King, so that is what they did, even if they didn’t like it and hated themselves for standing behind this cruel, vile man.
When the two Princes had sailed to Dragonstone together without warning one evening over a year previous, the King’s madness had only seemed to get worse. He went back to ranting and raving that Rhaegar was plotting against him, that Haradarian was a bastard boy being hidden under his nose and that he wouldn’t allow for it. He had proposed, yet again, to burn Haradarian alive on public display so that all the people and the gods could see that he rejected the boy, and that had been the hardest to hold his tongue on. The burning of an innocent boy, a boy he saw as his own son, but his sworn brothers all coached one another to hold their peace once they were safely within the walls of White Sword Tower. He joined them, calming them, and himself in the process. Haradarian was away and refusing to answer the summons of his Father…only now the Princes were returning. Today according to their raven.
He was terrified that the tensions would grow too much, that the loyal factions to Aerys would clash against those loyal to Rhaegar and those loyal to Haradarian. Fights had already broken out amongst the smallfolk over who was loyal to the King or to the Princes, or even those loyal to one Prince over the other. If that came to pass then he would have to choose between his sworn duty to the King, or to the man he believed would be a better King and to the boy he saw as his own son. It would be a hard choice, a terrible choice, but though he would find it difficult to break his oath, he would find it twice as difficult to follow any order that harmed Rhaegar or Haradarian in any way. He didn’t even think that he would be able to stand by as someone else was ordered to harm those two. He’d watched them grow from newborn babes, to boys, to men. They were dear to him, Haradarian in particular.
He and two of his sworn brothers, Prince Lewyn Martell and Ser Oswell Whent, were standing on the harbour of Blackwater Bay, waiting for Prince Rhaegar’s ship to dock. They could see it from where they were standing, the Targaryen flag flying proudly and the massive carved dragon’s head on the prow.
Of course, over a year away was a long time and Haradarian was now a man at six-and-ten. Barristan could see him on the head of the ship, tall, so tall, the silver hair of Rhaegar stood behind him, the gap between them wasn’t quite as pronounced as it was a year ago, the younger Prince was growing tall and strong.
The biggest surprise came in the form of a tiny little babe in Prince Haradarian’s arms as he wobbled his way down the gangplank to solid ground, aided by his older brother.

‘Thank the Gods’ The Prince complained. ‘I thought I’d be thrown overboard.’

He was holding the obviously unhappy babe close, holding a tiny hand, but as he turned his head to check on the babe, Barristan noticed that they had exactly the same colour of hair. He swallowed. His boy had had his own babe while he’d been away on Dragonstone.
It made his worry double, if the King was still planning to harm Haradarian, what would he do to this little, vulnerable babe? He did not think that King Aerys would give him the babe as a boon as he had done with Dontos Hollard after the Defiance of Duskendale, besides that he could not stand the mere mention of Haradarian coming to harm, something would have to be done and soon. There was an innocent babe involved and two innocent young men, the reign of King Aerys the second could not be allowed to snuff out the lives of three innocent Princes on a whim. It could not be allowed.

281AC

Harry smiled tiredly as Kings Landing came into view. He held on tightly to his little son, Rhaegon, as they hit another wave that almost took Harry’s feet from under him. Thankfully the waters were calmer as soon as they came closer to land. It wasn’t a long trip from Dragonstone to Kings Landing, but sometimes if the weather was wrong, the waters were dangerous. Today was one such day as he slid all over the deck, trying to keep his feet, as the choppy waters rocked the ship from side to side.
Rhaegon whimpered in his arms and Harry kissed his black crown of hair.

“It’ll be alright, my love.” He said softly. “We’re almost there.”

“Are you both alright?” Rhaegar asked, coming over and holding Harry around the waist and kissing his son’s head, much as Harry had.

“Rhaegon is a bit unsettled. He doesn’t like how unsteady the ship is.” Harry answered as he patted Rhaegon’s tiny back. “Neither do I for that matter.”

Rhaegar held him tighter and he lent his weight to steady them a little more. They had spoken extensively about what to tell everyone once they reached Kings Landing and they believed that it was safer if they claimed that Rhaegon was Harry’s son with a Volantenese woman who had died in childbirth, as Rhaegon had Harry’s black hair, but he had taken Rhaegar’s purple eyes. They didn’t want Rhaegon to be claimed as a bastard child, so they had to say that Harry had married the woman in Volantis shortly after they’d left for Dragonstone a year and a half ago.
They’d paid three servants who they had brought with them to say that they had been servers at the wedding and the two of them had drilled all the details they were going to use themselves to get everyone to believe that Harry had married and had a baby whose Mother had died in childbirth when in reality, he had carried Rhaegon and had given birth to him himself. No one knew of that part and they weren’t going to until after King Aerys was dead. The reality was he had come back from Volantis heavily pregnant and he’d given birth just days later with Rhaegar at his side in their shared bed in the fortress on Dragonstone. He’d duped the servants and attendants at Dragonstone into believing that he’d had the baby with him upon his return from the funeral of his Volantenese wife.
He had been scared, of course, but overall, though the most painful thing that he had ever experienced in his life, he felt that it was all worth it as he held his baby son in his arms.
A year and six turns ago, when they’d gotten married for the first time, he had had no idea how he was going to bring back the dragons, now he knew. He only had the one son, but he’d been pregnant twice in the year and a half that he’d been away. Only Rhaegon had been a human baby, the other pregnancy had delivered him of a single dragon egg. The egg hadn’t hatched, much to his and Rhaegar’s devastation. The beautiful red egg had been laid carefully in the dragon vault with the three fossilised eggs of their ancestors. There they were locked in and sealed until he and Rhaegar found out how to hatch their unborn baby, it was half the reason that they were heading back to Kings Landing, so that Rhaegar could pick up the old, ancient scrolls and books that they were hoping would hold the key to hatching the dragons.

“How are you feeling?” Rhaegar asked, putting a hand on the gentle roundness of Harry’s belly.

Harry smiled and held Rhaegar’s hand against his gently curved belly. He was pregnant again, only just as he believed that he was less than a single turn pregnant, and his belly was soft, not as hard as a rock. He was having a second human child, not another dragon egg. His belly went like a steel shield when he was pregnant with a dragon egg.

“Queasy.” He answered truthfully. “I’ll be happy to get both of my feet on solid ground before I vomit, but I’m not as bad with the Mother’s sickness as I was with Rhaegon. Or at least I’m not yet.”

“I’m glad to hear it, you have no idea how worried I was to see you so unwell while pregnant.” Rhaegar told him with a kiss to Harry’s cheek.

“My Prince, we’re almost at land.”

Harry sighed. “I can see the Kingsguard on the shore.” He said. “Unless someone else is waiting on the banks in white armour and white cloaks.”

“It’s the Kingsguard, or at least a few of them.” Rhaegar nodded. “Come, let us prepare for landing.”

It took several more minutes until they docked and immediately they had people doing everything for them and Rhaegar helped Harry disembark with Rhaegon. Harry was so happy to get solid ground beneath his feet again, he could have gotten onto his knees and kissed the ground. He grinned at the shock and surprise on the faces of the three Kingsguard members.
Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Oswell Whent and a very confused, shocked looking Prince Lewyn Martell, who had been there for their small wedding and knew that they were dedicated to one another.

“Who is this?” Ser Oswell Whent asked first, recovering from his shock well.

“This is my little son, Rhaegon.” Harry answered as he hefted the boy higher on his hip.

“A bastard child?”

Harry narrowed his eyes, trying to control the urge to physically attack the one who had insulted his babe. “No.” He answered angrily. “He is most certainly not a bastard child, how dare you try to claim as such!”

“Peace, brother.” Rhaegar soothed. “You get married and bring a baby back to Kings Landing, you can’t expect people to just know these things without telling them first.”

Harry sucked in a breath and he blew it out again.

“You’re married?” Ser Barristan Selmy asked. “Have you brought your Wife?”

Harry made a show of biting his lip and looking away. He shook his head and walked away with Rhaegon.

“His wife died in childbirth.” He heard Rhaegar telling the Kingsguard. “He doesn’t want to speak of it, he was devastated and Rhaegon is a permanent reminder. He’s just six turns old. Malana, Harry’s late wife, only carried him to seven turns so Harry had to face the fears of losing them both. He wasn’t even married for nine turns when she birthed Rhaegon and died. Do not mention her.”

Harry smiled and he made his way to the Iron Gate. Prince Lewyn Martell caught up to him quickly.

“I know that you haven’t really married anyone else, it wouldn’t be legally binding because you’re already married. Where did the boy come from if he is not a bastard?” He demanded under his breath.

“Later.” Harry said back. “Just know that he’s not a bastard and I never married again. I will explain, with Ser Arthur and Lord Connington too, later tonight. Just stick to the story.” Harry demanded.

“He has Rhaegar’s eyes.”

Harry smiled adoringly at his little son. “He does.”

“It’s not possible!”

“Later!” Harry hissed as Rhaegar caught up to them with the other two Kingsguard members just behind him.

They were escorted all through Kings Landing from the Iron Gate, smallfolk seeing them and clapping and cheering. Harry smiled at them all as he clutched Rhaegon tightly, it seemed that they remembered the good that he and Rhaegar had done for them, even with their long absence. He was very pleased.
Rhaegar handed out a few small coins, making them a bit more popular with the smallfolk, but very soon they made it to the bronze gates of the Red Keep and they were escorted right into Maegor’s Holdfast…then his mummer’s skills were really put to the test.

“Who is this, darling?” His Mother asked immediately as he walked in to the royal solar with Rhaegon on his hip. His six turn old boy was getting tired from the early morning and the rough sea voyage across Blackwater Bay. He was hiding his face in Harry’s jerkin.

“My son, Mother.”

“You sired a bastard child.” His Father, who was looking older and sicker than Harry could have possibly imagined, sneered cruelly. His attitude had not improved with their absence this time, it seemed.

“No.” Harry said with a clenched jaw. “I married a Volantenese woman fifteen turns ago.”

“Is she worthy?” His Father demanded.

“Where is she, darling?” His Mother asked.

Harry sighed. “She was named Malana Maegyr…”

“She was of the Maegyr’s?” His Father interrupted to ask happily, looking very pleased. “Was she of the main branch?”

Harry nodded. “A younger daughter, but that mattered little to me. Not that it matters much anymore as she died in childbirth.”

“Oh, Haradarian. I’m so sorry.” His Mother said softly.

“Let me see the child, a boy?” His Father cut across.

“A boy.” Harry nodded. “Rhaegon.”

“Rhaegon?” His Father asked as Harry reluctantly handed over his and Rhaegar’s son to the filthy, unkempt man. He made a mental note to wash Rhaegon extra thoroughly later.

“I wanted to call him Rhaegar, but Rhaegar thought that it would be too confusing to have Uncle and Nephew both named Rhaegar and he instead suggested that I name him Aegon. I compromised and named him Rhaegon. It has to be better that Aegar, though I’m sure that Rhaegar just wanted to be the first and only of his name for a little longer.”

“You caught me out, brother. That is entirely why I stopped you from naming your son Rhaegar and insisted that you named him Aegon instead.” Rhaegar said dryly.

“I knew it!” Harry said with a laugh.

His Mother giggled and took the baby from Aerys, who had held him out to be taken from his weakened arms.

“How old is he?” She asked as she cradled the sleepy baby lovingly.

“He’s only just six turns, Mother. He was born two turns premature, but he was strong and he has only grown stronger.”

“He’s so beautiful, much like you were, Haradarian.” His Mother sighed. “His eyes?”

“Malana’s.” Harry said with a falsely sad smile.

“Did she have trouble carrying?”

“I didn’t think so. She seemed to carry okay…” He said unsurely, thinking back to his time being pregnant. He had had a few problems throughout his pregnancy, mostly based in ignorance as he didn’t know what to expect from being pregnant, but he had done well, or so he had thought.

“She carried just fine.” Rhaegar said firmly. “She laboured for almost three days to bring Rhaegon into the world, she was just too exhausted to keep herself from the Stranger’s arms after that.”

“Almost three days? The Seven above, it’s a wonder that she managed to get Rhaegon out at all. What did Maester Uther say? Did he do anything?”

“Rhaegon was born in Volantis, Mother. Maester Uther wasn’t there, so he didn’t attend to my Wife, I did myself.” Harry said softly.

“Then it’s not a wonder that the poor girl is dead.” His Father sneered and Harry snapped his back straight and he glared right ahead.

Malana wasn’t real, but he was still very offended to hear that his Father didn’t think him capable of birthing a baby when he had six silver links to his chain and Maester Uther only had two. He bit his tongue until he tasted blood, but it was no good, he took his son from his Mother and he walked out and to his own room without saying a word.
He’d left Rhaegon’s beautiful cradle at Dragonstone, but he would be sure to buy a suitable one later, for now, Rhaegon could sleep with him. They could both use a nap.
He made it up to his bed chambers and he bolted the door. He kicked his boots off and he slipped into his bed that had been aired out before he’d arrived. He wanted to spend his time here in Rhaegar’s bed, but the servants would talk and that’s the last thing that they needed. Rhaegon was the most important thing to him and to Rhaegar now, neither of them would needlessly risk him.
He sat in his bed with Rhaegon lying on his back between his legs and Harry just watched him as he squirmed around and cooed gently, before he yawned and chewed on nothing for a moment and his purple eyes drooped. Harry rubbed his chubby pot belly in slow circles and Rhaegon eventually drifted off. Harry rubbed his own belly and he smiled.
He was only two weeks pregnant, three weeks at the most. They had come back to Kings Landing because there had been a tourney at Harrenhal announced, hosted by Lord Walter Whent, Ser Oswell Whent’s brother, for his maiden daughter’s name day at the end of the year. Rhaegar had actually set up the entire tourney and he had sponsored it with prizes. He also wanted to attend the tourney, as he always did. Harry couldn’t participate, despite being sixteen and now an official man, because he was pregnant and had a young son to think of.
That had been why Rhaegar had called for the tourney at Harrenhal and had sponsored it with prizes that no one could ignore, because Harry was pregnant again with a second child. Rhaegar had subtly called a Great Council under the pretext of the tourney at Harrenhal. He was going to talk to the Lords of the realm about the removal of the declining, unstable King. They couldn’t wait any longer. King Aerys might have been their Father but he was ruining the reputation of their family and very soon, it would be irreparable, even if he and Rhaegar were to take the Iron Throne, they would hold no respect or love of the people of the Seven Kingdoms and that was something that they could not allow to happen. Not to mention that Harry was going to start swelling soon with his second child. He had explained Rhaegon away by claiming his wife had died in child bed. He couldn’t have another child, who could possibly look exactly like Rhaegon, after he’d claimed that his wife was dead. King Aerys needed to be gone before he gave birth for the third time, to his second child.
The door handle jolted as someone tried to open the door to his bed chambers and then someone rapped on it smartly.

“Harry, its Rhaegar.”

Harry smiled and he stood up and slid back the bolt, opening the door for his Husband.

“Are you okay?” Rhaegar asked, slipping into the room and closing the door behind himself, bolting the door again.

Harry nodded. “I know it’s not real, but hearing someone blame me for someone else’s death, even a fictitious death, it hurts, Rhaegar. I have six silver links, six! Do you know how rare that is? I could be a strong contender for the next Archmaester of healing and medicine if I’d taken the oaths, but no, just because I’m young, if anything goes wrong in my hands, it’ll be my fault.”

Rhaegar held him and took him back to the bed where Rhaegon was sleeping peacefully.

“Would…” Harry cut himself off and he sighed, shaking his head.

“Whatever it is, get it out.” Rhaegar told him softly as he touched Rhaegon’s fluffy black hair.

“Would you have blamed me if Rhaegon hadn’t made it?” He asked insecurely, playing his fingers around his Maester’s chain.

“Absolutely not.” Rhaegar told him. “Our son came two turns early, babies have died when they’re born full term. If Rhaegon had died, I would not have blamed you, Haradarian. I love you, you’re my Husband and I’ll always support you through such things.”

“What if I lose this baby? What if there’s nothing that I can do and we lose this baby?” He asked worriedly.

“Please don’t worry about such things.” Rhaegar told him, placing a hand over his belly. “You’re newly pregnant and the stress isn’t good for you or the baby.”

Harry nodded. “I know that. I know. What he said is getting to me though.”

“I hate him even more for that.” Rhaegar growled. “Come and rest. I’ll take Rhaegon.”

Harry baulked at that idea and he placed a protective hand over his son.

“I won’t let any harm come to him. It’s difficult for me to be away from you both. You’re going to be sleeping with him every night while I’m alone in my own rooms. I’ve been there every day and night since he was born and now I have to pretend that he’s just my Nephew.”

Harry sighed and bit his lip. He nodded.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be selfish with him, I just don’t want to be back here. I’m so worried and I’m scared that he’ll do something to Rhaegon.”

“Not with me there he won’t.” Rhaegar said protectively. “I would die for him.”

“I definitely do not want that either!” Harry exclaimed, but he sighed and picked up a sleeping Rhaegon gently, kissed him and handed him over to Rhaegar, who cradled their boy protectively in his muscular arms. “I only want to sleep for a bit to catch up on last night. Come back and call me in two hours?”

“Of course I will, my love. Just get some rest.”

Rhaegar kissed him on the mouth gently and tucked him in one handed as he held their son with the other.

“Love you.” Harry said as he snuggled his face into the soft, feather pillow.

“I love you too, Husband.” Rhaegar said softly. “I’ll take care of our son, you take care of yourself and our unborn babe.”

Harry rubbed his belly and nodded, his eyes already closing.

“I’ll put Lewyn on the door so that you can keep it unbolted.” Rhaegar told him, but Harry just hummed, already drifting off in the warm, cosy comfort of his childhood bed.

Rhaegar laughed and he left his Husband to his sleep as he carried their son out of Harry’s bed chamber and closed the door softly behind him. He would come back in a few hours to wake him up, but until then, he wanted his Husband to sleep for as long as he could, completely undisturbed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Harry was woken up with a sweet kiss to his lips and he smiled, at least until, with a very loud screech, Rhaegon joined in and slapped his cheek.

“No, Rhaegon! We don’t do that to those we love.” Rhaegar chastised.

Harry peeled his eyes open and he groaned. “I feel like I’ve only been asleep for a few moments.”

“I left you as long as possible, it’s been just over two hours since you went to sleep and now it’s time for the noon meal. You need to eat.”

Harry groaned and forced himself upright, taking Rhaegon, who had outstretched his arms for him to take.

“How has he been?”

“Great, he needs a bit of milk though. He had a few berries that I squashed up for him, but he needs you.”

Harry nodded. “Is the door bolted?”

Rhaegar nodded and sat on the bed with him as Harry lifted his many layers of clothes, unlacing his jerkin, lifting his tunic and slipping his one arm out of it and he exposed his nipple to Rhaegon, who snuggled into his chest, latched on and started suckling at Harry’s milk.

“I love watching you feed him.”

“I just wish that he’d be gentler. He sucks so strongly and now that he’s growing in teeth, he’s biting.” Harry grimaced as he endured feeding his growing son.

Rhaegar smirked and he cupped Harry’s other small breast in his hand and rubbed gently, knowing how incredibly sensitive they were. Harry moaned loudly and he shuddered.

“Not while Rhaegon’s feeding.” He complained half-heartedly.

“I can’t help it, you’re so beautiful and I really do love seeing you feed our son with your own body.”

“He’ll want to sleep again after this, how long was he down before?”

“Not long.” Rhaegar chuckled. “Viserys wanted to say hello.”

Harry chuckled too. “How is Viserys?”

“A little subdued I think. He wasn’t his usual self but I think he has missed us a lot in the last year and a half that we’ve been away.”

“I wish that he was ours.” Harry said sadly. “If he were we could take him away with us.”

“He hasn’t been harmed.” Rhaegar insisted, even as he petted Rhaegon’s black hair as he suckled. “He’s just lonely with no brothers here, Father won’t let him play with anyone for fear that they’ll do him harm.”

“He is still overprotective of Viserys then?”

“Viserys yes, us, not so much. I’d been here for an hour and he accused me of plotting for my succession over him.”

Harry chuckled. “You are.” He said in barely a whisper.

“He shouldn’t know of that.”

“He’s entirely mad, Rhaegar. He accused you of the same years ago and you were not planning as such. He’s grasping at straws and if we don’t slip up, he’ll never truly know of such things.”

Rhaegar nodded. “He doesn’t want to come to the tourney at Harrenhal, which is a blessing. It’ll be much easier to progress with things without him there.”

Harry nodded, more than a little distracted by his feeding son, but Rhaegar always liked to sit with him while he fed their child. He liked talking when he was sat watching Rhaegon feed too.

“I might actually settle down and stop walking as if my back is going to be attacked if he’s not going.” Harry said, feeling Rhaegar’s chest rumble through his back as his Husband hummed.

Harry sighed, partially in relief, as Rhaegon finally let go of his nipple and Harry put the six turn old over his shoulder and patted his back as Rhaegar rubbed the feeling back into Harry’s abused skin for him.
Rhaegon made a soft noise and Harry tucked him back into the crook of his arm, watching as he slipped slowly off to sleep.
Rhaegar was the one who tugged down his tunic, back over his one arm and laced up his jerkin for him, settling it back around his body properly. Harry checked to make sure that no odd lumps were visible and that nothing could be seen, but his breasts were not that big, barely enough to cup in one hand, and truthfully the jerkin was enough to keep them out of sight, but Harry was slightly paranoid. He didn’t like them and to him they were completely obvious and visible, though Rhaegar swore that they weren’t.
He stood and Rhaegar immediately shadowed him. Once he’d had their son, Rhaegar had been doing that a lot, following him, protecting him and Rhaegon, always there to lend a hand if Harry needed it and there to support him if he didn’t need any help. Harry stopped and Rhaegar bumped into the back of him because he was walking that incredibly close to him, Harry grinned and tipped his head back for a kiss before he unbolted the door. Rhaegar obliged him happily.

“I need to get something from my room, a moment. I left it there to come and wake you.”

Harry nodded as he settled Rhaegon more securely in the crook of his arm. Rhaegar hurried down the corridor to his own rooms and Harry made his way to the royal solar for the noon meal.

“Prince Lewyn, I trust that you are well?” He asked as the man immediately fell in behind him from where he had been guarding the door to his bed chamber on Rhaegar’s orders.

“I am, my Prince. I trust that you and your babe are well?”

“We are, thank you. I needed to catch up on some sleep. Rhaegar has been helping, but there is only so much that he can do as an Uncle and Rhaegon isn’t sleeping through the nights yet.”

“Does Rhaegar do much nightly care?” Prince Lewyn asked.

“His fair share, of course. But most of the night care is left to me. Rhaegar helps where he can, but there’s only so much that he can do after all.”

“You too I would imagine.”

“Oh no, you couldn’t possibly imagine what I do.” Harry replied cryptically with a smile, making Lewyn ever more curious about the puzzle before him.

Lewyn looked for a moment like he’d question him, but a servant girl hurried past with dirty linen cloths and Prince Lewyn knew well enough to remain quiet in such public areas.

“There he is, there’s my beautiful boy and my first grandson.” His Mother said happily. She was practically overjoyed to be a grandmother.

Harry smiled and he took note of all the people in the room automatically. His Mother, his Father, Viserys and the Kingsguard. There were servers dotted around too, moving dishes and filling cups, but he paid them no mind.

“Mother, Father, Viserys.”

“I missed you earlier! I was in my lessons.” The five year old Viserys insisted, moving seats so that he was sat right next to him. He peered into his arms and into Rhaegon’s sleeping face. “Is he really my Nephew?”

“Yes, Viserys. This is my son, Rhaegon. I’m sure that Rhaegar has already introduced him to you.”

“He’s sleeping again! He was asleep earlier too.”

“Rhaegon is only six turns old, Viserys. He likes sleeping more than anything else.” Harry smiled as he put the sleeping baby over his shoulder and held him with one hand while he picked and tore at the food around him with the other.

Rhaegon shifted himself a bit in his sleep, his face snuggling more into Harry’s neck and his legs tucking up further.

“Is he safe like that?” Viserys asked. “His arms and legs are all trapped and squashed.”

“He can’t use his arms or legs yet, Viserys.” Harry explained patiently. “He needs me to hold him at all times, see my hand here.”

“What if he falls?”

“I won’t let him.” Harry smiled as he ate one handed. It was very difficult, usually Rhaegar cut his food up for him or they took it in turns to hold Rhaegon while the other ate. He hated being back in Kings Landing.

“Will the boy require a wet nurse?” His Father asked. It was the most civil he’d been to him since he’d arrived back from Dragonstone.

“No, Father. Rhaegon hasn’t had a wet nurse for the last few turns. He started rejecting his original wet nurse, so I changed her, but Rhaegon rejected the one after and the one after her. So he’s eating little pieces from the table. He likes berries, soft things that he can easily eat without chewing. Very small pieces of fish is good too, as well as soups, mashed carrots and turnips. Anything that’s near enough already chewed and just needs swallowing he can eat.”

“Rhaegar fed him some crushed berries earlier, I was so surprised.” His Mother told him looking at the babe so happily. “Rhaegon is so strong for how young he is, two turns premature too.”

Harry grinned. “He’s growing so much faster than I would have imagined too. I remember Viserys as a babe, but I don’t remember him growing that fast.”

Rhaegar entered the solar and he automatically sat next to Harry without thinking about it, his nose buried in an ancient book. Obviously what he’d gone back to his rooms to collect. He had already started on looking up ways to hatch their unborn dragon and they hadn’t been back for three hours yet, Harry was very proud and he fervently hoped that Rhaegar found the answer, the key to hatching the dragons.
His Husband put his book down after a moment before he pulled Harry’s plate towards him and he used his dagger to cut everything up and then shoved it back at him.

“Thank you.” Harry said simply, eating much easier now that he didn’t have to wriggle and flick his wrist about to get bite sized pieces of food.

Rhaegar cut up his own food before he buried his nose back into his book, the both of them eating one handed.

“What are you reading now?” Harry asked.

“Hmm? Oh, the Histories of Dragons.”

“You’ve read that book several times now.” Harry complained.

“I’m reading it again to see if I missed anything.” Rhaegar explained.

Harry sighed, but he nodded acceptingly. He finished eating before he turned Rhaegon back down into his arms. His son complained the movement with a soft sound, but his eyes stayed closed. He stayed asleep.
Harry took a drink from his goblet before he rested back in his chair.

“Is Rhaegon going to wake up and play now?” Viserys asked.

Harry chuckled. “Not yet. He won’t be able to play for a long while yet, remember he can’t move his arms or legs properly, he can’t walk yet.”

“How does he get about?” Viserys asked.

“I carry him everywhere, Viserys.”

“Or I do.” Rhaegar added without removing his nose from his book.

“You swore to me that you’d help after Malana died.” Harry reminded.

“I did and I will.” Rhaegar smiled at him, finally taking his nose from his book to look at him.

“Eat your meal.” Harry told him as he picked up Rhaegon between both hands and watched adoringly as his little knees pulled up so he was in a tiny ball, he laid his son back down into his other arm.

“If you ever need a moment to yourself, darling, you know where I am.” His Mother insisted as she finished off her own food.

“Thank you, Mother. I’m finding it difficult to handle the lack of sleep. With Rhaegon refusing a wet nurse and refusing to sleep through the night, I’m not getting much sleep at all.”

“Is that why you went to sleep like a mere babe yourself?” His Father sneered.

“Yes, Father.” He agreed easily, readily able to see the truth in the statement and big enough to ignore the insult. His Father’s new civility hadn’t lasted even a half hour.

“Can I hold him?” Viserys asked, not able to sense the tension around him. Or perhaps he was just so used to it at his young age that he was easily able to brush it off. That thought made Harry inexplicably sad.

“Can you be gentle?” Harry asked him.

Viserys nodded enthusiastically.

“Make a cradle with your arms.” Harry told him. “Like I have.”

Viserys looked and he copied the exact position of Harry’s arms. Harry picked Rhaegon up again and his son complained with a short whine, but Harry laid him gently in the cradle of Viserys’ arms and he settled again easily.

“He’s so heavy!” Viserys complained as he looked down at the baby in his arms.

Harry laughed happily. “That’s the sign of a healthy baby.” He told his brother. “It’s good that he’s so heavy. It means that he’s feeding well and he’s not sick.”

“He’s too heavy.” Viserys complained shortly, moving to twist himself further towards him, indicating for Harry to take the babe again.

Harry laughed and he hefted his boy up again, who cried almost angrily and those dark purple eyes opened a slit to peer around him, likely wondering what all the movement was.

“Oh, you’ve been moved about too much, haven’t you?” Harry cooed as he sat Rhaegon on the table and held under his arms as his son all but glared at him for the interruption to his sleep.

Rhaegar immediately put his book down and touched the soft, chubby cheek of their son. Rhaegon looked at his Father and grinned, making soft sounds of delight.

“That’s charming, he glares at me, but for you he’s all smiles and giggles.” Harry complained.

“Of course. I am his favourite Uncle after all.” Rhaegar chuckled.

“I am!” Viserys protested and Harry laughed.

“He’s going to be spoilt with you two around him, I can already tell.”

“That’s what you’re for.” Rhaegar said. “To stop him from becoming a rotten little Princeling.”

Harry smiled. “I believe you’re right. Though I have to be Mother and Father to him and I don’t know how.”

“That won’t be an issue if you get remarried.” His Father told him.

Harry’s shoulders hunched. “I couldn’t. Malana hasn’t been dead for a year yet. I do not believe that I could ever love another.”

“You need to produce more than one measly son. You will be married again.”

“I won’t.” Harry argued.

“I’m telling you that you will be, as soon as someone worthy is found.”

Harry breathed heavily and he stood up and swung Rhaegon onto his hip, holding him securely as he stormed out of the royal solar for the second time in three hours, and he carried on out of Maegor’s Holdfast. He walked down and then back up the serpentine steps and he went to his most favourite place that wasn’t in Rhaegar’s arms. The godswood.
He sat under the great oak heart tree amongst the overgrown, red dragon’s breath, feeling the pulse of magic that was always here that set his fingertips tingling and forced his breath to come shallower, more rapid, and he put Rhaegon down on the grass. He looked up at the clink of armour and he locked eyes with Ser Barristan Selmy.

“Am I being selfish, Ser?” He asked after several, long minutes of silence while he watched Rhaegon wriggle and giggle in the long grass, feeling the magic of this place seep into his body, energising it, making him feel like he was swelling, about to burst at the seams, even as he wasn’t. “Perhaps as a Prince I’m not meant to marry for love, perhaps as a Prince I’m not allowed to grieve for the Wife that I have already lost so young, too young. Is it my duty to just keep breeding until I’m no longer able to? Taking wife after wife as soon as the previous is no longer able to have children, or perhaps we go back to our Valyrian roots and I take more than one wife at a time. Is being born as a Prince mean that I cannot have anything for myself? That I cannot have love, a life of my own, a dream of my own? I never asked to be born, so why must I give up everything that I want for the life that my Father wishes me to have?”

“It is not my place to tell you, my Prince.” Barristan told him.

Harry sighed. “I did not expect Malana to die so young. She was so beautiful, so full of life, and I killed her by planting Rhaegon in her womb. Perhaps that was wrong of me also. Perhaps it was wrong of me to tend to her myself while I’m so young, regardless of how learned, I was inexperienced. I didn’t think that Rhaegon was a big baby, he looked so tiny to me, but Malana laboured for so long, she could not get him out and I feared that I would lose them both. I forced her to push, I never gave her a moment’s rest for fear of my child. I pushed her beyond what she could endure and now I will carry that regret for the rest of my life. As I tell our son why he has to grow up without a Mother. It was my fault, I’ll have to say to him, I pushed her too hard, too much, and instead of giving up on my unborn child, I forced my wife to push out my child and it killed her.”

“It is not my place to say, my Prince, but it is to my knowledge that any Mother, young or old, would have preferred that their child lived over themselves.”

“Do you really think so?” Harry asked, considering that seriously and exploring his own thoughts and emotions on the matter and he came to the conclusion that, yes, he would have much rathered that he had died if it would have given his beautiful Rhaegon a chance at life. “Malana was so exhausted by the end that she did not even have the breath to say a single word. I helped her to hold Rhaegon to her breast as her arms were too weak to do so herself and then…then she slipped from my hands into the Stranger’s hands. I could not say what went wrong, I do not know why she laboured for so long when Rhaegon was so tiny, perhaps she was just too young. She was recently flowered when we married and she didn’t fall pregnant right away, but so too have many other Ladies who got to live. Why my Malana? Why the woman I loved? Am I meant for another whom I have not yet met? Am I meant to have only tasted the briefest of happiness only to never feel that way again?”

“Those are all questions for the Gods, my Prince. Only they know the answers you seek.”

Harry sighed and nodded. He smiled at his Rhaegon, who was clutching his own feet and giggling.

“I do not know what I would have done if my boy had not lived either.” He confided softly. “He was early, but strong from the start. I am ashamed to admit that I sunk into grief for the first few days after his birth. His care was left mostly to Rhaegar and a wet nurse. I could not…I did not know how to handle such overwhelming emotions. Such sadness and grief as which I have never before felt in my life. I never want to feel anything of the sort again. Another wife could harm Rhaegon like Father’s mistress did to my brother, Jaehaerys, to put her children closer to the top of the succession, I just can’t risk it. I don’t want to marry again. I won’t take that risk with Rhaegon.”

Ser Barristan remained quiet and Harry sighed. The truth of the matter was that he had absolutely no choice in any decision made about himself or Rhaegar, or even Rhaegon, despite being considered a man now at six-and-ten and Rhaegon being his son, his Father could still overrule any decision he made. He was still ruled by his Father’s demands, as all nobles were subject to the whims of the Lord of their house.
Maybe it was time to get their Father off of their backs once and for all about their marriages. It wouldn’t be ideal, but if he and Rhaegar each married some worthy woman, as long as they never consummated, then those marriages could be nulled by the High Septon at a moment of their choosing, most particularly, after their Father’s death or his discrowning and dethroning as then Rhaegar would become King, and no one, not even the King’s Father, told the King what to do.
He sighed again and picked up Rhaegon. They would have to be incredibly careful about who they picked as wives as the women would have to be in on their marriage to each other too and Rhaegon needed to be protected at all times as his highest priority. He needed to speak with Rhaegar as a matter of urgency.
He stood and he hefted Rhaegon over his shoulder, his son letting out a soft, happy coo at the movement that made Harry smile. He started moving, leaving the godswood and Ser Barristan fell in just behind him, his hand always drifting near the pommel of his sword.
As soon as he was out of the godswood, his breathing evened out and he could suck in a nice, deep breath of air and the magical feeling eased out of his body, almost like he was deflating, leaving him feeling slightly bereft, but much better as he could breathe easier and he could think much more clearly.
He made it back into Maegor’s Holdfast and he quickly navigated the corridors to Rhaegar’s room. He knocked firmly and then entered. His brother was sat in his chair, but Ser Arthur was in the room with him, as was Prince Lewyn.

“Ser, you may take your leave as you see fit.” Harry smiled at Ser Barristan. “It seems that we are to be very well protected here.”

Ser Barristan nodded his head and he left them be, closing the door behind him. Harry bolted it closed before he walked over to his Husband and then offloaded Rhaegon onto his Father before falling onto Rhaegar’s bed happily.

“Your loose tongue could have gotten you killed.” Rhaegar told him unhappily. “You can’t argue or reason with a mad man, Haradarian. It’s too dangerous to try.”

He sighed. “It was an automatic response. I’m too used to being on Dragonstone.”

“It would serve you well to remember that we are not on Dragonstone any longer. The things we say or do here could get us killed or worse, it could get Rhaegon killed.”

“I know. Which is why I’ve been thinking that perhaps we should get married.”

“What do you mean?” Rhaegar asked immediately, his voice thunderous.

“Any marriage you have now would not be legally binding.” Prince Lewyn told them frostily. “With all the trouble that you went through to get married in the first place, forcing us to become involved too, I would not think that you would so easily break your vows!”

The Prince of Dorne was obviously referring to Rhaegon and Harry’s supposed infidelity, but Harry ignored that for now.

“Exactly! No marriage now would be legally binding. The marriages would be covers only, a ruse to stop Father from marrying us to whomever he pleases while keeping us safer behind the protection of a false marriage. If we chose rightly, the women will know of our marriage and their purpose as a cover. If we don’t consummate, and we won’t for respect of the Ladies that we marry and the love we hold for one another, we can nullify them as soon as Father is dead due to non-consummation of our marriage vows. The Ladies will be unsullied and still maidens, free to marry again as they please and they will forever hold our favour for helping us.”

“This idea has merit, we would have to choose very wisely, though.” Rhaegar said thoughtfully as he realised what Harry was truly getting at as he bounced his son on his knee gently, thinking hard. “Women are like to gossip and by telling them, we endanger ourselves and Rhaegon too. A woman who wants to be a Princess or even Queen is not going to react favourably to an annulment of marriage, a woman who truly wishes to be our wives is not going to accept us laying with one another and not doing our husbandly duty to them. A woman who has any desires or schemes to put her children on the Iron Throne cannot even be considered. We need to evaluate all the Ladies in the Seven Kingdoms and find, not one, but two who fit such a mould. I do not think we can do it, Harry. People hide who they really are and what they most desire, how can we tell if we’re picking correctly? If we make the smallest mistake or miscalculation then we and Rhaegon could all be executed.”

Harry bit his lip. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t have thought that any woman would actually pick a marriage that is truly a farce. A marriage that leads to no pleasures and no children, what would be the point of it for them? They would have to be willing to put up with it for however long it takes for Father to pass into the Stranger’s hands. Only the Gods know how he’s still clinging onto life while he’s so sick and unkempt. Personally I think he’s stubborn enough and cruel enough to make our lives a complete misery before the Stranger takes him. He’s ruining the Seven Kingdoms, ruining the Targaryen name and trying to ruin our lives first, before he passes on.”

“He won’t succeed.” Rhaegar said strongly. “This has gone on long enough.”

“You mean to kill him?” Arthur asked.

Rhaegar shook his head. “I ordered the tourney at Harrenhal. I snuck back to Kings Landing some time ago and, covered head to foot, I found Ser Oswell. I bid him to go to his Lord brother and schedule a tourney the likes of which the Seven Kingdoms have not seen before. I am the shadow sponsor of Lord Whent for the tourney prizes. While there I am going to hold a Great Council and I am going to ask the opinions of all the Lords present and I will ask them to remove Father as King and put me in his place. I do not want him dead, he is still my Father, but his reign cannot continue in this manner. He is killing people without trial or proper judgement, he has turned the Great Hall into his personal furnace so that he can burn people on a whim whenever he pleases. The Kingdom has fallen into decline, the people are suffering without a proper King. The finances are ramshackle, the smallfolk’s grievances are not heard or they’re just ignored, the King’s justice is non-existent and at the head of the Kingdom is a man who won’t bathe or groom himself, rambles about fire and burns whomever he pleases without thought for consequences. It is enough.” Rhaegar said sternly.

Harry nodded. “Enough is enough. The reign of King Aerys the Mad must end. I will not bring my children into this…this insanity! If he can threaten to burn me, then he can do the same to them. If he sees me as a bastard of the Targaryen line, then so too are my children. I won’t risk them, Rhaegar.”

Rhaegar kissed Rhaegon and held him close. “I agree fully with you, my love. Our son must not be put in such danger. I won’t allow it.”

“Your…your son?” Prince Lewyn stammered.

“Rhaegon is mine and Harry’s son.” Rhaegar confirmed. “We thought it easier at the time to claim him as Harry’s son because of his dark hair. Perhaps, with hindsight, it might have been safer to claim him as mine.”

“I was thinking the same. But Rhaegon still needs milk. He needs to sleep with me still. Perhaps we should have delayed our return, and the tourney, for another year, but with each delay, the Kingdom suffers. It is hard to pick which to put first. But even if we had waited, there is no guarantee that we wouldn’t be in exactly the same position as we are now, we can’t know for certain that Father will be dead within a year and by then we’ll have another dependent child who’ll need milk like Rhaegon does so we could be in exactly the same position.”

“You said that Rhaegon didn’t need a wet nurse.” Arthur pointed out confusedly.

“And he doesn’t. I make enough milk for him.” Harry said simply, letting that sink in for a moment before dropping the next bewildering revelation. “I carried Rhaegon within my own body. He is mine and Rhaegar’s child.”

“Impossible!” Ser Arthur spat.

“What black magic is this?” Prince Lewyn hissed.

“Just because I studied the magics and occult in the Citadel does not mean that I am practicing any dark magics or sorcery!” Harry said firmly. “Do I look like I’m Asshai’i to you?”

“Are you actually a Lady?” Ser Arthur asked uncomfortably.

Rhaegar laughed uproariously at the question, but Harry glared, his face going red with temper. “No I am not a thrice damned Lady!”

“I can attest to that. He is a man.” Rhaegar chuckled, wiping his one eye.

“Then how?!”

Harry sighed and he unlaced his jerkin and took it off, he lifted his tunic enough to show the slight roundness of his belly…and the long, thick, puckered scar from where he’d cut Rhaegon free.

“That…that was done with a blade…that deep a belly wound should have been fatal!”

“It would have been, had I not been heavily pregnant at the time it was created. The blade went into my womb, not my guts. I do not have the correct parts, so Rhaegon had to be cut free of my body.”

“I suppose we should start at the beginning.” Rhaegar said softly. “When I was four-and-ten and Haradarian was but nine years old I unearthed an old scroll that had come from Old Valyria, written in High Valyrian. It was thousands of years old, how many thousands before it came to Valyria, I could not even estimate. Upon the scroll was a prophecy, one pertaining to my own family. The prophecy foresaw Haradarian’s birth and named him the Prince who was promised. Haradarian was claimed as the saviour of the Targaryen family, who at the time of the prophecy’s making, were very large, very prosperous and surrounded by dragons. Yet the prophecy foresaw their decline, of both the family and the dragons. It claims that the Prince who was promised would usher in a new age of the dragons with his own body.”

“Are you going to try to say that Rhaegon is a dragon in human form?” Prince Lewyn demanded. “That fire will set him free? I have had enough of the Targaryen follies with fire! How many of you must die from your unnatural fascination with fire before you realise that it is a fool’s errand?”

“We will let that insult slide, as you are our friend and we realise that this is a difficult, impossible, concept to comprehend, but beware your tongue, Prince of Dorne.” Harry warned. “No one, absolutely no one, is to put Rhaegon to death by fire. I would throw myself on a sword before I allowed any harm to come to him.”

“Then what are you saying? What did the prophecy mean?” Arthur asked.

Harry sighed and shared a look with Rhaegar. “We didn’t know at first.” He answered softly. “We thought that perhaps the used word of dragon was a euphemism for child, as the prophecy named both Rhaegar and I dragons also and called us dragon breeders with its text too. The exact words that followed the dragon breeders described them as a pitch haired Prince and his silver haired rider.”

“How did you know that pertained to Rhaegar?” Prince Lewyn asked.

“Earlier in the text it alluded to the silver haired rider and said that he was needed to mirror his black haired brother. It could only mean me as I was the only brother that Harry had at the time we found the prophecy.” Rhaegar answered.

“I see Viserys more as a son.” Harry added. “The prophecy could never have meant me and him…only me and you.”

“And the prophecy said that I was to teach you and instruct you in all things. Viserys, as your younger, could not have done as such.” Rhaegar reminded.

“You…you started planning your marriage at nine?!”

“Of course not, I was much too young to think of such things at nine. It took me many moon turns to read the text, many more to understand it and what it meant. I passed my thoughts back to Rhaegar, who passed his thoughts to me. I was…a young eleven, I think, when the notion of marrying Rhaegar first came into my head, more like whimsical daydreams than true planning, but the idea took storm and I told Rhaegar, who was horrified as I was so young. But I started getting jealous of those who swooned over him. At the tourney at Lannisport for Viserys’ birth, when I was almost twelve, I could have slayed half of the Ladies in attendance for the way they were looking at Rhaegar, how they touched him, how they spoke to him and tried to get him into their beds. I couldn’t stand it. Around that time we started actually thinking about marriage as a certainty, knowing that we would be married together, but not truly how we’d manage it. That came years later.”

“Those women are no threat to you and of no consequence. It is you I love, our son proves that our marriage is fortuitous, that the Gods have blessed us. We are the ones whom the prophecy foresaw, you are the Prince who was promised.”

“Tell me the prophecy you found exactly as it was written.” Ser Arthur said, looking more and more like he believed them and from the expression on his face, Harry gathered that he couldn’t believe himself for believing in something so seemingly impossible, but he wasn’t shouting or looking at them as if they were as mad as their Father any longer and that could only be a good thing at this point.

Harry and Rhaegar shared a look and Harry smiled, leaving the decision up to Rhaegar, who sighed and settled himself in his chair. Rhaegar had memorised the prophecy down to the last letter, looking for hints in the wording as to what it might mean. If anyone could recite it from memory without the scroll there in front of him, it was Rhaegar.

“High Valyrian is a very difficult language to understand, but I dedicated my early youth to reading and understanding it, the prophecy I found was written in High Valyrian, but translated into the common tongue, it reads as follows.

‘Heralded by a bleeding star, born amidst smoke and salt the dragon age begins anew.
The Prince who was promised comes forth, a dragon breeder sword in hand, to deliver the world from darkness.
Alongside comes the second dragon breeder, the silver haired rider to mirror his black haired brother. He who must teach him, instruct him, in all things, to stay by his side and show him the way.
The dragon breeders of dragon blood, a pitched haired prince and his silver haired rider, will bring back the dragons who were lost. With their own bodies entwined together, their passion will flourish and spark new life, between them their babes shall be created and born. With fire and blood it shall be completed, for the Prince who was promised is born to his purpose and his purpose is a song. The song of ice and fire.’”

There was silence in Rhaegar’s bedchamber for long minutes, the only sounds was the snuffling of a bored Rhaegon as he contented himself with playing with his own foot on his Father’s lap.

“The prophecy speaks strictly of two dragon breeders, one silver haired, one pitch, being able to lay with one another and create and birth children. Rhaegar and I have done as such.” Harry said into the silence. “Rhaegon is our son, planted in me by Rhaegar and I cut him free of my own body after seven moon turns of growth.”

“Why not leave him to nine?” Ser Arthur asked.

“How did you know it was time to cut him out?” Prince Lewyn asked almost at the same time.

Harry grimaced. “I would have left him if I could, but though I do not have the parts, Rhaegon still told me when it was his time to come out and I had a labour. The most agonising, panic stricken, chaos ridden labour I could possibly have ever imagined. A pain I have never known before, or since, ripped through my womb and back, collapsing my legs under me as they would not work, and at the time I feared that they would never work again. All I could do was scream. Scream and scream as the pain tore through me akin to some wild beast on a rampage. I could afford no pain relief, no knock out medicine as Rhaegar held my hand steady as I sliced through my own body to free our son. I had to pull out my own birthing parts and stitch myself back up before I could even take one drop of the milk of the poppy, before I could even stop and rest, there was blood everywhere, I’ve never seen so much blood before. I was knocked out for days afterwards, gulping milk of the poppy like water to even bear the pain of it as I had the tightly stitched wound bathed four times daily with a mixture of boiled water, vinegar, salt and cloves and thankfully no infection set in. I am however, scarred for the rest of my life.”

“Will you…will you have more?” Prince Lewyn asked.

Harry nodded. “Of course, I am already pregnant with our second child. It took two turns for my wound to fully heal, another turn after for the pain to ease and another turn again before Rhaegar stopped treating me like I was made of porcelain or glass. We started sleeping together again soon after. I am a turn or so pregnant, but definitely less than two turns.”

“What about the dragons?” Ser Arthur asked. “The prophecy said that you’d bring back the dragons, have you figured that out as well?”

“Partially.” Rhaegar answered as he looked at Harry, this time giving him the option of speaking or not.

“We only have Rhaegon, but I have been pregnant twice in the year that we’ve been married.” Harry explained.

“You’ve been giving birth to dragons!” Prince Lewyn gasped.

“Not exactly. Rhaegar and I have conceived a dragon’s egg. I’ve birthed one thus far, they only take four turns to mature enough to want to come out and the pain is not as bad as when I laboured with Rhaegon, which is why I certainly wasn’t expecting the amount of pain I felt when I went into labour with him, but they are harder to get out though, I have to cut almost from hip to hip to slip the eggs out and the egg I have birthed has not yet hatched. The knowledge of hatching the eggs is lost…do I leave them, incubate them? Do I put them in fire and if I do, what fire? Ordinary fire, wildfire, or will only dragon fire be enough? I just don’t know and I can’t take such a risk with my babies. I never want any harm to come to them.”

“We’ll figure out a way to hatch them. Until then, this one is going to keep us very busy.” Rhaegar soothed as he held onto Rhaegon tightly as their son chased down his own foot, stretching down to reach it, gripping it and then pulling it up to his mouth so he could suck on his own toes.

“So…so you might be pregnant with an egg?” Ser Arthur asked. “A real dragon egg?”

Harry shook his head. “No, our second human child. The eggs feel different inside me. They’re big and bulky and they feel like stone after the first turn. Human babies are softer, lighter, though they grow bigger as they remain inside of me for longer.”

“I can’t…I can’t even believe this.” Prince Lewyn said as he rubbed his forehead. “You actually had a baby! You’ve given birth not just to a child, but to dragon eggs?”

“That’s correct.” Harry said as he laid back on the pillows and yawned.

“You…forgive me, but this is difficult enough, but did you…you mentioned giving him milk. Are you producing milk for Rhaegon, are you…do you have…?” Ser Arthur asked.

“I have grown in breasts that are producing milk for Rhaegon to feed from, yes.”

Harry was aware that both men were looking at his chest and he glared at them, covering his chest over more firmly with his crossed arms.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t look at my Husband’s breasts.” Rhaegar told them stonily.

“You won’t see them anyway, as I’m a man, they’re tiny. Full of milk they’re barely a handful and they’re easily covered with clothing.”

“Sorry, my Princes. It is a little strange.” Ser Arthur pleaded.

“It is.” Harry agreed. “We know this, and we understand that we’ve had years to get used to the prophecy and what it means and that springing it upon you in such a manner is a very shocking experience. I just wanted you both to understand what’s happening, especially after you helped us get married in the first place. You deserve the real explanation and this is it. Rhaegon is our son, we’re going to have another baby in another eight or so turns if I don’t birth early again. I’ve birthed a dragon egg that is also Rhaegar’s and we need to get King Aerys off of the throne before I give birth to this second child. I can explain away Rhaegon, but I can’t invent a second wife who also dies in child birth.”

“I have a younger sister, Ashara.” Ser Arthur told them after a moment’s silence. “She is young, but if I have your permission, I could ask her if she would be willing to marry to one of you. I am involved, if she sheds light on you both, she is as good as killing me too.”

“You would do that, for us?” Harry asked, very touched.

“I would do anything for you and Rhaegar. You’re my friends.” Arthur said sincerely. “Ashara is young, she is flowered and gets a lot of attention, but our brother wishes for her to marry for love and Ashara has refused all who have come seeking her hand thus far.”

“Thank you, Ser.” Harry said genuinely.

Prince Lewyn sighed. “I’ll speak to my sister also, she has a flowered daughter, Elia, who she is trying to find a match for. If I explain the situation then she might agree to the match for the bond it would rekindle between Dorne and the crown. I am in the same position, if my sister or Elia say anything, I will be killed also.”

“We thank you, my friends. From the bottom of our hearts.” Rhaegar said as he stood and embraced the two men one after another, Rhaegon coming with him.

The six turn old boy squawked at the movement and at being squashed twice between two men, and Rhaegar laughed, hefting him higher, facing him outwards so that Rhaegon could see what was going on around him. Curious purple eyes peered around the room and at everyone within. He cooed when he saw Harry and chubby hands lifted to outstretch towards him.
Rhaegar took four long strides over to the bed, kissed Rhaegon and handed him to Harry, who snuggled the boy to his chest.
Rhaegon gave a hungry whine and nuzzled into his tunic, rooting for his nipple and Harry actually blushed.

“I…um. Excuse us.” He sat up again and shifted to put his back to the three men and he lifted his tunic and slipped his one arm free. He pulled Rhaegon close to his chest and his growing son latched onto his nipple hungrily and suckled strongly. The noise was audible in the silent room and all those present knew what was happening.

“I…should we leave?” Ser Arthur said uncomfortably.

“Just…stand where you can’t see. This is so embarrassing!” Harry complained, utterly mortified that his son had wanted a feed with the other men in the room.

Rhaegar came to sit behind him and he kept to their ritual, he played with Rhaegon’s hair while his broad shoulders and back blocked Harry’s body from the two members of the Kingsguard who were stood awkwardly, watching them uncomfortably, listening to the sounds of wet, fervent suckling.
Once Rhaegon was done, Rhaegar played with his nipple to sooth it and then he helped Harry slip his tunic back on.

“Are you alright? Did he bite?”

“Doesn’t he always?” Harry groaned. “I don’t think he drew blood this time, which is a blessing.”

“Do you need any ointment?”

“Don’t fuss, Rhaegar, my love. If I needed ointment I would have made it and applied it myself.” Harry kissed him to take the sting from his words.

“I want to take care of you.” Rhaegar told him.

“And you do, Husband. So very, very well. Stop fussing so much.”

Rhaegar nodded and then grimaced as he smelled a foul odour. “Has he…?”

“Well it certainly isn’t me!” Harry laughed as he unwrapped Rhaegon and took away his soiled smallclothes, wiping him off with a clean section before replacing them with the fresh smallclothes handed to him by Rhaegar. “Put these into the basket to be washed.” He ordered.

Rhaegar took them and put them in the basket they were using for all of Rhaegon’s soiled smallclothes and he put it outside his bedroom door for the servants to take. They had ordered a waste basket to be placed in Rhaegar’s room as well as Harry’s as he had been taking care of Rhaegon too. Of course everyone outside of this room believed that Rhaegar was Rhaegon’s uncle. They would only find out when the time was right. When he and Rhaegar had the throne for themselves.
The Kingsguard would be the first to be informed, so that the two of them could veto their reactions and make sure that they were protected by those around them before telling the Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms and then, after those, the remainder of the peoples of the Seven Kingdoms would be told.
There were obviously going to be those who were angry or disgusted with their choices, those who would claim that they’d used dark magic or sorcery to get Rhaegon. Those who would try to harm them, which is why they needed the Kingsguard on their side first and foremost as their highest priority.
It was going to be difficult, none of them disputed that, but they were going to make it work. Harry firmed himself and he picked up the freshly dressed Rhaegon, wrapped him in a shawl, and he kissed Rhaegar before he took his son on a walk to go and see his Mother.
Prince Lewyn stuck close behind him and Harry breathed easily. King Aerys was done for, not even his Kingsguard were willing to put up with his mad ruling anymore. Prince Lewyn and Ser Arthur were stood firmly beside him and Rhaegar. Ser Oswell was willing to stand by Rhaegar’s claim to take the throne from his Father and if Harry had to put his life in anyone’s hands, it would be Ser Barristan. That left only the Lord Commander, Ser Gerold Hightower, and the two remaining members of the Kingsguard, ancient Ser Harlan Grandison, who was too old to perform any strenuous duties, and the newest member of the Kingsguard, Ser Jonothor Darry. Harry believed that the hardest one to win over would be the white bull, the Lord Commander himself, who prided himself on upholding his honour and duties to his sworn King, who was, currently, Aerys the second.
Prince Lewyn kept his hand on his pommel at all times and it was because, Harry realised, that he was treating him like a pregnant ruling Queen. He placed his free hand on his slight bump and he smiled. He needed to be careful, but he’d done this before, he knew what to expect this time around.

“I’m alright, Lewyn.” Harry said with a smile. “I’m not going to be showing for a while yet. No one knows and they couldn’t possibly guess about my condition. Rhaegon is the most important person to protect here, not me.”

“I disagree, my Prince. Forgive me, but if Prince Rhaegar were to lose you, then we’d have a ruler little better than the one we have now. I will protect all of you until my dying breath.”

“I know you will. You’re a wonderful friend, to both of us. If there is anything that we can ever do for you, please, just ask.”

“Just…look after my niece, Elia, if my sister agrees to this plan.”

“Of course we will. Rhaegar and I will have the utmost respect for the both of them, and for your families. It won’t be for very long, it’ll just keep us all safer. I have to think of Rhaegon now. He is the most precious person to me and to Rhaegar, if anyone found out the truth with the situation as it currently is, then Rhaegon would be killed and that’s completely unacceptable. Our boy will always come first, along with all other children that follow.”

“Will you have another boy?” Prince Lewyn asked.

Harry chuckled. “We are still capable of having a daughter, Lewyn. I wouldn’t mind either way. Rhaegar just likes having someone to play his harp to in the nights. He’s going to miss doing that while we’re here.” He sighed.

The two of them fell silent as they reached the main corridor in Maegor’s Holdfast and he travelled down to the royal solar, there he found his Mother embroidering on a soft chair by the fire while attended by the two Septas’ that his Father had ordered to be beside her at all times. They even slept with her in her bed at night. That would stop as soon as he and Rhaegar had the throne, anyone caught disrespecting his Mother would be held in complete and utter contempt.

“Mother.” He greeted with a smile as he sat in a chair beside her.

“Haradarian, darling. Are you well?”

“I am. How are you?”

“I am wonderful. Here, pass Rhaegon over to me.”

His Mother put her embroidery away haphazardly and held her arms out to receive the baby. Harry carefully handed his son over in his shawl. Rhaegon was still awake, but he was having one of his quiet moments.

“He’s such a good baby.” His Mother complimented.

“He is. He’s perfect.” Harry said with a proud smile. “I want to show him everything. I want to teach him everything. I might take him to Dorne.”

“You’re going to Dorne?” His Mother asked, her face falling.

Harry nodded. “You know, it’s the only place in the Seven Kingdoms that I have not yet visited.”

“Aerys doesn’t like Dorne, or the Dornish for that matter.”

“I have no idea why. I’m very fond of Prince Lewyn and Ser Arthur.” Harry said mildly.

“I meant no offense, Ser.” Queen Rhaella insisted to Prince Lewyn behind Harry. “I do not think or feel the same as my Husband.”

“Think nothing of it, your Grace.” Prince Lewyn replied graciously.

“I am much more open minded than average men.” Harry said. “Rhaegon was born in Volantis, after all. I want to show him the whole of the Seven Kingdoms and as I’ve never been to Dorne, I wish to start there.”

“When?” His Mother asked. “Darling, you’ve only just come home after nearly two years away, please don’t leave again so soon.”

“It might be safer, Mother.” Harry said quietly, so that the two Septas’ couldn’t hear him.

His Mother blinked and then looked at the baby in her arms. She nodded sadly. “Yes. Of course, whatever you want to do, my love.”

“It wouldn’t be for long. I’ll go down the Roseroad to Highgarden and then take the Prince’s Pass and I’m planning to stop at Bitterbridge, Nightsong, Starfall and Godsgrace and then onto Sunspear. Depending on how long I stay at each location, I could be back in a little over a turn, Mother.”

Queen Rhaella sighed, but she smiled. “You bring home this sweet little grandson, without informing me that you were even married or that he’d been born, and now you want to take him off on a trip to Dorne that he won’t even remember. Will you come back with a second child?”

Harry laughed. “No, I realise now that I had done things wrong by marrying in Volantis and staying there for so long and away from home. Rhaegon was a few days old when I brought him home to Dragonstone. In fact Rhaegar dragged us both to Dragonstone and I holed up in my bed chambers for almost a turn afterwards, locked in my grief.”

“I am truly sorry that you have lost one whom you obviously loved so much. As your Mother I would have spared you from that pain if I could have.”

Harry smiled and touched his Mother’s hand. “I know you would have. Thank you, Mother.”

“You go and pack for Dorne, leave this precious bundle with me so that I might have some time to bond with him before you take him away again.”

Harry nodded. “Lewyn, please stay with my Mother and Rhaegon. I will be fine on my own, I’m not leaving Maegor’s Holdfast just yet and I’m not planning to leave the Red Keep.”

Prince Lewyn nodded and moved to stand behind Queen Rhaella and the young Prince Rhaegon, the boy who would one day sit the Iron Throne.
Harry quickly made his way through Maegor’s Holdfast and he went to his own bedchambers. He had barely unpacked from his arrival from Dragonstone, but most of his things were clothes or personal effects for Rhaegon. He wouldn’t need half of them for his trip to Dorne.
He also needed to find Rhaegar and inform him of his trip. His Husband would not be happy that he was going to travel to Dorne, with his son as well, but if they were going to go through with these farce weddings, then it was better to broker the terms in person, or so he believed, so that there were no misunderstandings later down the line.
He packed clothes for himself and Rhaegon, who was going to need an entire cart just to carry all the smallclothes that he was going to need, but his son still needed his milk and if Harry was travelling to Dorne, then Rhaegon had to come with him. It wasn’t ideal, but Rhaegar had to pick up his duties to the realm now that he was back in Kings Landing to prove to everyone that he had what it took to be a good King. Their Father had left the Seven Kingdoms in a terrible state and the realm was so neglected that it was a wonder there hadn’t been a mass revolt yet. Though Harry had a terrible feeling that one was brewing. It might help him to gauge the feelings of the smallfolk if he went travelling and from there, he could think of a way to ease their pain and suffering a little or allay their fears over the future and what was to come.
He finished packing and he went to find Rhaegar, who was likely holding a small council meeting to try and fix the state of the crown finances.
He was correct in his assumption as he walked into the council hall and found Rhaegar sat at the head of the table, Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur at attention behind him.

“Where is Rhaegon?” His Husband asked immediately.

“With Mother in the solar of Maegor’s Holdfast.” Harry answered. “I left Prince Lewyn with them.”

“Are you well?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, but I’m travelling to Dorne. It would be wise to get an idea for how the smallfolk truly feel.”

“Why Dorne?” Rhaegar demanded.

Harry grinned. “I’ve never been to Dorne.” He said with a chuckle, but his fingers still found his Maester’s chain and played with it nervously. Rhaegar noticed immediately and laid his hands over the one playing with the chain, stilling it.

“You’ll be taking Rhaegon with you.” Rhaegar said with sadness in those dark purple eyes.

Harry nodded. “I want to show him Dorne. He was born in Volantis, he’s seen Dragonstone and now Kings Landing. I want him to see Dorne too.”

“He’s six turns old.” Rhaegar laughed.

“I know.” Harry smiled. “But the realm is in such a state that we need to start somewhere and getting Dorne back on our side is very important, though the most important is reassuring the smallfolk and getting them to realise that there are still people here in Kings Landing who will look out for them, who care for them. They need that reassurance right now, Rhaegar. You need to assure them of that.”

“I will have a retinue put together to escort you.”

“Not too big, only a handful.” Harry replied. “I’m stopping at Highgarden and Sunspear, but also at Bitterbridge, Nightsong, Starfall, Godsgrace and that’s not to mention all the small inns and taverns. The last thing I want is to put too much pressure on the smallfolk by carting around a hundred strong entourage for a mere visit to Dorne.”

Rhaegar nodded. “Yours and Rhaegon’s protection is the most important issue to me, but I understand your point. I wish I could go with you.”

“You’re needed here.” Harry said, but he bent forward and whispered. “If we don’t distance ourselves then I’ll be on my knees begging for you before the week is out and I won’t care who sees or hears me.”

Rhaegar’s purple eyes widened and he sucked in a deep breath. He nodded. “That would be for the best.”

“You know I’ll miss you, but this needs to be done, preferably before this little one comes.” Harry whispered, pressing Rhaegar’s hand to his gently curved belly. “We can pass this one off as one of our Wives. It’ll keep us much safer.”

Rhaegar nodded. “If you leave in a few days, you should be there and back again before the next full moon. But as long as you’re home in time for the tourney at Harrenhal.”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing my big brother being crowned champion and I certainly don’t plan to be gone for five turns.” Harry grinned, speaking more normally so the others in the room could hear him.

“Good, now go and get yourself sorted and I’ll get protection for you and Rhaegon.”

Harry nodded and he sighed. He needed to spend as much time as he could with Rhaegar now that he knew that he was leaving again. He would find a way to lay with Rhaegar before he left.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Just four days later, Harry was sat astride his favourite palfrey with Rhaegon tied to his body to stop him from falling, on his way to Highgarden. He had several knights with him and a handful of servants, but that was it. His Father had refused to part with even one member of the Kingsguard, so he and Rhaegon were travelling with just household knights to protect them. He could still see the worry in Rhaegar’s eyes and he took a hand from the reins to touch his sword at his hip. He sighed and touched Rhaegon, who was cooing happily with the gentle movements of the horse and it made Harry smile.
They’d already visited Lord Lorent Caswell at Bitterbridge, staying overnight, and he had been well received by him, but the smallfolk had been a mixed bag, some overjoyed to see him, others distrustful and even hostile, but still Harry had tried to help them as much as possible, helping a woman carry her heavy basket of apples and helping another woman, a washerwoman, patch up an injured ankle, even going so far as to help her hobble home. But something was definitely going on, but Harry had heard no whispers of any danger during his stay at Bitterbridge. He had sent a raven to Rhaegar though, just to warn him of the potential tension of the smallfolk near the Kingswood, they couldn’t have such unrest so close to Kings Landing, practically in their own back garden.
He’d made a few stops along the way to Highgarden, making sure to pay for himself and his retinue generously, which seemed to make those he met happy enough. But he was still glad to reach Highgarden in good time. He swung down off of his horse and approached the waiting people with Rhaegon on his hip.

“My Prince Haradarian.” Lord Mace greeted him at the gates, surrounded by his family, knights, guards and curious smallfolk.

“Lord Mace, it’s wonderful to see you again. Lady Alerie. Lady Olenna.” He greeted, nodding his head to the two women.

“Who is this?” Lady Olenna asked him as she peered at the babe sat on his hip.

“This is my son, Rhaegon. He’s six turns old.”

“We have much to catch up on, it seems. Mace, invite him for refreshments.”

“I…of course, please follow me, my Prince.”

Harry followed Mace Tyrell and his family, a six year old Willas all but jogging at his side, chatting to him, his little four year old brother Garlan, chubby and rounded, puffed and panted trying to keep up.
Harry stopped, hefted up the rather heavy four year old and then he started walking again, Willas keeping up, chatting about all the things that he’d thought about and read since the last Harry had seen him. He really was exceptionally bright for his age.
He was led to a beautiful boxed in garden that had a glass roof. It was secluded and very private. Everything was in bloom, the flowers smelled so sweet and fragrant and Harry relaxed as he placed Rhaegon down in the lush grass and watched as his little boy wriggled and giggled to himself as he ripped up the grass around him.

“You have left your Wife in Kings Landing?” Lady Alerie asked, a little harshly Harry thought and he showed that he’d caught onto her tone with a slight narrowing of his eyes.

“No, she was buried in her homeland of Volantis. She died in childbirth.” Harry replied just as frostily.

Lady Alerie seemed to realise that she’d made a huge mistake, without the poisonous glare that Lady Olenna was sending her way, and her cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

“I…that is a terrible tragedy, my Prince. I am sorry for your loss.” Alerie said, trying to cover her tasteless, offhand comment with meaningless pleasantries.

“It was a terrible loss, for me and my family and for hers too. She was much, much too young to die. She laboured for three days and it was too much for her. I almost lost Rhaegon also. It was a terrible time and such a devastating loss leaves a grievous wound behind that has not yet had time to heal.”

“He is strong and healthy.” Lady Olenna complimented, changing the subject to much clearer waters as she watched Rhaegon.

“He is and growing stronger every day. He’s not showing any interest in moving himself, though. He prefers to be carried around like a spoilt little Princeling.”

“He is still a little young, he’s small too.” Lady Olenna told him.

“Mother!” Alerie chastised.

“I am not your Mother. I would remember if I had given birth to you.”

Harry smiled, as the Lady Olenna had said as such the last time that he had visited Highgarden. He loved her sharp tongue that she used as both shield and sword to protect herself and her family, on occasion, from the comments of others. Mostly though those barbarous comments were aimed at her own son and good-daughter.

“He is small.” Harry agreed. “He was two turns premature.”

“Oh, he’s so strong for two turns premature.” Alerie insisted.

Harry nodded as he watched Rhaegon wriggle on the grass.

“Are you staying for long?” Lord Mace asked.

“He will stay for as long as he stays.” Lady Olenna told her son sternly, cutting in very quickly.

Harry chuckled. “A few days at least, if I am welcome.”

“Of course you are welcome, my Prince!” Lord Mace assured him, looking embarrassed at his perceived rude blunder. He probably hadn’t meant it in a rude way either, which is why Harry saw it as a harmless, offhand comment rather than anything to get worked up over.

“I am making my way to Dorne. Do you know that I have never been to Dorne in my life? It’s one of the only places that I have never been. So while Rhaegar fixes the damage that our negligent Father has caused in Kings Landing, I am travelling to Dorne to try and renew relations. Rhaegar feels that it is time that he married. He loves being an Uncle and I think he’s realised that he wants to become a Father. Do you know that he steals my son every night to play him to sleep with his harp? He needs his own babes, so my ulterior motive is to broker a marriage between Kings Landing and Dorne by offering up my brother to the Princess Elia Martell.”

“She is no good for Prince Rhaegar, she is far too skinny and much too delicate. She doesn’t have birthing hips and I’ve heard that, though beautiful, she’s sickly too. She won’t give him strong sons.” Lady Olenna criticised immediately.

Harry sighed. “I know, Lady Olenna, but we need the alliance more than ever. We can’t afford to isolate Dorne with the state of the Seven Kingdoms as it is. A marriage will strengthen those ties and Princess Elia is the only viable option at this moment in time, Princess Arianne is just five years old, she will not be eligible for marriage for at least another nine or ten years, Princess Elia is the only match available and Rhaegar will take it if needed.”

Harry rubbed his head and he sighed, but he smiled a moment later as Rhaegon screeched as he peered at the grass stuck to his chubby hand.

“He’s so happy.” Lady Olenna sighed happily as she looked at his son.

Willas, who had sat next to Harry, helped Garlan to slip down to the floor and Harry grinned as the little boy crouched down to peer at Rhaegon.

“Be careful, Garlan.” Lord Mace insisted quickly to his younger son.

“It’s alright. Viserys is also very curious of Rhaegon and my poor boy has been poked, pinched and prodded since I brought him home. He’s very robust and hardy, he won’t mind. In fact he tends to give as good as he gets, he hits back and he bites.”

“He has teeth at this young age?” Lady Alerie asked.

Harry nodded. “Two of them…the front bottom teeth. He bit Viserys’ finger the second morning he was in Kings Landing. He’s quite cunning about it too, because he’ll grip your finger and you think he’s just being affectionate or that he’s just playing, then he’ll drag it to his mouth and bite.”

Garlan was rubbing Rhaegon like he was a small animal and it made Harry smile. Garlan was the youngest Tyrell, he had obviously learnt how to be gentle with cats or dogs and he was applying it with Rhaegon.
Rhaegon screeched and wriggled his arms and legs, reaching out for Garlan with a wet, dribbly grin.

“He wants to sit up, Mother.” Garlan said as he got his hands under Rhaegon’s arms and hefted him up.

“Be careful, Garlan!” Alerie all but screeched in worry.

Harry only laughed and he helped Garlan settle Rhaegon upright, on his bum, resting against Harry’s legs to support him up, just in case. Rhaegon was fully able to sit up himself, but he tended to list sideways, forwards or backwards after a short while, particularly if he reached out for something.
Rhaegon giggled and clapped his chubby hands together and Harry smiled adoringly as he brushed Rhaegon’s jet black hair gently with his fingers.

“Have you thought about remarrying, my Prince?” Lady Alerie asked.

Harry made a show of sighing heavily. “I don’t want to, but my Father is insistent. In his words, one measly son isn’t good enough. I can’t see myself loving anyone else, not ever, how is that fair to any Lady I then marry? She’s never going to be my Malana, she’s never going to be good enough. I’m never going to love her the same as I did Malana and that’s not fair to her. It would be better if I waited until I felt ready, until I found one I loved as much as Malana, but I’m not being given the choice or the luxury of time.”

“You might come to love her in time.” Mace told him kindly.

Harry smiled. “Perhaps, but how long will that take and how much pain will I put her through before then? It would be better if I found a woman like Malana and she was easy for me to like and be around. I could love a woman easier if she were kind and gentle, particularly to Rhaegon. I will not accept anyone as a wife who would shun him or try to hurt him, as things stand, he is the Heir to the Iron Throne after Rhaegar and I.”

Harry bent and kissed Rhaegon’s head, wiping his chin with a clean linen rag that he kept tied to the belt of his tunic.

“I hope the rooms that you stayed in on your last visit are still adequate for you. We’ve had them freshly cleaned and aired out, there is new linen on the bed and we’ve left you some essentials for your use. We will, of course, have Garlan’s cradle placed in the room too for Rhaegon’s use if this pleases you.” Lady Olenna said graciously.

“I would be most thankful. Rhaegon hasn’t slept in a cradle since we left Kings Landing and I believe that he misses it. He’s not fond of sharing a bed with me.” Harry laughed.

“Will he require a wet nurse for his use or have you brought your own?”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you. Rhaegon started rejecting all wet nurses a turn ago. He hasn’t had once since.” Harry lied easily with a smile.

“Would you like a bath drawn?” Lady Alerie asked him.

Harry looked at himself and grimaced. “I believe washing up would be for the best. I’ve been staying at various inns along the Roseroad and I haven’t bathed since Bitterbridge. I must be absolutely stinking. I apologise for coming before you in such a state.”

“Nonsense.” Lady Olenna chastised him. “Such a thing can hardly be helped and a revitalising bath will be good for you.”

“I will have one drawn immediately.” Lady Alerie told him as she stood and went to order around the servant girls.

“Will Rhaegon bathe with you?” Lady Olenna asked him.

Harry nodded as he picked his son up and sat him on his lap. “Yes, Rhaegon loves bathing with me and honestly, he’s used to having a bath a day, he’s very messy with his food. As he’s not moving himself yet, when I need to wash myself, I tend to put him in a wicker basket by the side of the bath. He usually falls right off to sleep after he’s been bathed.” He lied. He usually had Rhaegar with him as they bathed Rhaegon together and then Rhaegar would take their boy to be dried and dressed before he played him to sleep with his harp. Harry would be free to bathe in peace for as long as he liked…or until the water went stone cold.

“He’s so sweet.” Garlan told him with a huge baby grin.

“Not as sweet as you are.” Harry said as he tickled Garlan’s chin. “I can’t believe how you’ve both grown, you were a baby the last I saw you.” Harry said as he pulled Garlan into a hug.

“Go and have your bath, Prince Haradarian. It will get cold.” Lady Olenna told him. “Supper will be served in an hour.”

Harry chuckled and he stood, kissing both Willas and Garlan on the forehead.

“Thank you for your hospitality.” He said graciously before he gave Lady Olenna and Lord Mace a short bow and he made his way to the rooms that he’d kept two years ago, on his way home from Oldtown, he passed the room and went a bit further down the corridor, to the bathing area.

Lady Alerie was ordering the serving girls around as he arrived in the bathing area just down from his bed chambers, directing them to lay out all manner of oils and linens for his use.

“Is Prince Rhaegon staying with you, my Prince?”

“Yes, Lady Alerie. He needs a bath too, he’ll be fine with me, but can I please ask that a wicker basket is left behind so that I might put him down safely? If it is convenient for you, of course.”

“Of course, of course.”

Lady Alerie almost ripped a basket from a serving girl’s hands and Harry had to bite his cheek to prevent himself from laughing at her actions.
He was left alone to bathe, as he’d instructed, and he padded out the basket with clean linen cloths to snuggle his Rhaegon safely.
His son cooed as he was placed into the basket and Harry undressed himself, put his dirty things in a pile and he checked to make sure that the clothes laid out for him by Lady Alerie would fit. They would suffice until he could get his own clothes, he reasoned.
He took off his Maester’s chain and laid it on top of his clothes and he slid into the bath and he sighed unhappily. Someone, likely Lady Alerie, had ordered the temperature to be controlled. It was warm, not the scalding hot that he usually liked, but he hadn’t bathed in over a week, he wouldn’t complain.
He bent over the wooden tub and picked up Rhaegon, stripping him from his own clothes and unpinning his smallclothes. He dunked his son into the bath and held him as he splashed and screeched in happiness. He tilted Rhaegon backwards and used his hand to wet his hair and he loved how Rhaegon tried to see what he was doing.
He used the flower scented oils, of course they’d be flower scents here in Highgarden, to clean off Rhaegon before he put him back down in the wicker basket. He washed himself, taking care with his sensitive breasts, washed his hair and then he got out of the bath before he froze to death. Perhaps he should have stipulated that he liked his baths scalding hot? He sighed again. No, it would have seemed ungrateful and ungracious of his hosts’ hospitality. He’d only be here for a few days, hopefully in Dorne they ran their baths hotter, but with how hot a place it was, he wouldn’t be surprised if they took their baths as cold as they could get them to start with.

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Starfall was beautiful, it was all pale, white stone and it was in actual fact built on an island in the middle of the Torentine river. Of course Highgarden was considered by many to be the most beautiful castle in all of the Seven Kingdoms…disputed, of course, by the men of the Vale who prided themselves on their ugly Eyrie. Harry had been there once, as a young, very skinny, boy of six and Rhaegar, at one-and-ten, had refused to let him go and had instead clasped him tightly to his chest at all times. His big brother had had to all but carry Harry up to Eyrie with the commanding presence of their escorts, Ser Barristan Selmy and Prince Lewyn Martell, who hadn’t liked any of the three waycastles, Stone, Snow and Sky or the Eyrie proper. Harry was in full agreement with Prince Lewyn, he had hated all of the Vale and he truly didn’t care for that eastern Kingdom.
Rhaegar had had him sit with him on the humiliating donkey ride and there had been a terrible moment where their stupid donkey had caught a loose stone with its hoof and slipped, almost sending them both plummeting down the side of mountain, the only two Princes of the realm at that time. He remembered crying after that, wailing that he didn’t like it and that he wanted to go home, back to the Red Keep. He’d been passed to Ser Barristan Selmy, whose calm comfort had soothed him so that he wasn’t quite as hysterical as they continued up the tiny, treacherous goat path on mere donkeys. He realised now that he was older that it had been a tactical move to pass him over to Ser Barristan after the donkey slip, if one of them fell, the other was like to survive if they weren’t riding together on the same donkey. But he remembered clutching at Ser Barristan as tightly as his skinny arms could manage, trying not to look down, but being unable to prevent himself from looking at the same time.
The Eyrie itself was small, just several slim towers reaching up into the sky, but all Harry remembered was the cold, even in the height of summer. The howling winds that kept him awake all night and the one terrible, loud storm that had sent him running to burrow into Ser Barristan’s bed in the room just next to his own, hiding himself and trying fruitlessly to gain some comfort and courage from the patient, calm, brave knight, who had sat up with him all night throughout the storm, holding him and soothing him through every scream of wind that had sounded like some terrible, monstrous beast, with every flash of lightning that created terrifying shadows and every rumble of thunder that had had his heart pounding in his chest. They had stayed just a day shy of a week and even those six days had been too long in his opinion and he had cried from top to bottom on their descent, which seemed to be twice as dangerous and very disorientating because you had to look down as you travelled and seeing the clouds below you was wrong and scary and then, after going through the clouds, to looking down at tiny dots that you knew were huge forests and small blue lines that you knew were wide rivers was even scarier. He had again clutched onto Ser Barristan and cried himself sick all the way down. He and Rhaegar had both sworn to never go there again unless absolutely necessary and thus far, they hadn’t. Harry never wanted to go there ever again, it had left a lasting, terrible impression upon him as a young boy and if he could he would destroy the ugly place.
He was welcomed at Starfall as joyously as if he were a son of house Dayne and Harry smiled as he was immediately received and given refreshment without him even asking. A bowl of plump, soft berries was placed by his hand along with a spoon and Harry chuckled. Ser Arthur must have sent a raven ahead.
He tried the plump berries himself and found them still sweet and juicy. He used a plate and the spoon to squash the berries into mush that he then spooned into Rhaegon’s happy mouth, getting as much juice as he could too.
He took Ser Arthur’s true letter from his bag and he handed it over to Lord Alyn Dayne, Ser Arthur’s older brother. He attended to Rhaegon, feeding him the squashed berries and helping him to sip down some water from Harry’s own goblet.

“Leave us!” Lord Dayne demanded to the servers and attendants, his face like thunder. “Ashara, stay.” He addressed his younger sister.

Harry was pleased to note that the woman who would, potentially, play his farce wife, was incredibly beautiful and she looked exactly like Rhaegon with her jet black hair and bright purple eyes. His newest child, if this one came out just like Rhaegon, could be easily passed off as Ashara’s child.

“Is this letter genuine?” Lord Dayne asked him.

“I do not know what it says, Lord Dayne.” Harry replied honestly. “Your brother, Ser Arthur, handed it to me on the eve of my departure.”

“This letter claims that my brother witnessed that you’ve married your own brother, Rhaegar.” Lord Dayne hissed. Lady Ashara gasped and looked at him, and Rhaegon, as if they’d grown another head.

“That is correct. Rhaegar and I are happily married.”

“My brother sent me a raven just a week gone, telling us of your impending visit and your desire to see Ashara as a suitor. How can this be when this letter here claims that you are already married?!” Lord Dayne demanded. “I had believed that house Dayne was to be given recognition and status with a marriage to the royal line, even to a younger son, but I find out that it is all a farce!”

“If you would allow me to explain.” He said calmly.

“I think that that would be for the best.” Lord Alyn Dayne all but snarled at him.

“Rhaegar and I are married in secret, there were only five people who knew, seven now know including you and Lady Ashara. Rhaegar and I, your brother, Ser Arthur, and Prince Lewyn and Lord Jon Connington, the latter three who were all witnesses to our marriage. Yet we still need to be married in public.”

“You want to use Ashara, my sister, as some sort of witless fool to cover your marriage to your own brother?! No, absolutely not! I will not facilitate this…this unnaturalness!”

“Rhaegar and I love one another, we have for years before we married. We understand that many won’t accept it, and as I told your brother, we’re not asking anyone to accept it, we’re just asking for help and support.”

“You want to use Ashara in your little game, dishonour her, play her and make her seem like a weak fool to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. I won’t allow it.”

“I would take her as a wife, yes, but only in the public view. I would not dishonour her as you seem to fear. I would not consummate the marriage and it would not be forever, only until our Father has passed. Only he can null our marriage, thus he is the only one that we truly need to fear. As soon as he has passed over to the Stranger, then Rhaegar and I will announce that our marriages to the wives we’ve chosen were not binding and they’d be free to seek other noble husbands.”

“No one is going to agree to such a farce!”

“I would be careful what you say, Lord Dayne. The Princess of Dorne has already agreed to the farce, and the Princess Elia has already agreed to marry Rhaegar in public view only. Prince Lewyn sent a messenger ahead to deliver the sealed letter himself. If you do not wish for me and Ashara to marry in such a way, just tell me so and I will find another who will do as we are requesting. Lord Connington has a cousin, Alynne, who I could also ask.”

“The babe, where has he come from?” Lady Ashara asked as she looked at the baby that could have been their own true born son.

“He is mine and Rhaegar’s.”

“What lunacy is this now?” Lord Dayne demanded, thumping his fist onto the table top in fury, making the dishes and other tableware clink and chink.

“It’s not lunacy. Rhaegar and I have a true born son and if you don’t believe me…”

Harry trailed off as he stood up, placing Rhaegon onto the table top. He unlaced his jerkin and lifted his tunic to show the slight bulge of his newly pregnant belly and the deep, puckered scar from where Rhaegon, and the single dragon egg, had been cut out of him.

“This scar is from where I cut Rhaegon out of my body, this bump, is mine and Rhaegar’s second babe forming.”

“You’re truly a woman.” Lord Dayne said quietly. “I had my suspicions, half the realm have their suspicions, but I reasoned with myself, why would King Aerys hide a daughter as a son?”

“I am a son, a man!” Harry replied, offended. “I am a man and I have always been a man! Hence why I have to cut my children free of my body as I do not have the correct parts to truly birth them.”

“Then how is it possible that you can have and carry children?! You will tell me or I will not agree to such a farce of a marriage as to dishonour my own house!”

“Neither of the women will be dishonoured.” Harry said firmly. “If they are maidens when they come to our marriage beds, they will go back to their homes afterwards as maidens. Rhaegar and I will not lay with them or dishonour them in any way because we will not dishonour ourselves or our own love to one another. They will be protected, they will enjoy all the invitations and status as a Princess of house Targaryen and they will forever be in our favour, even after our marriages are nulled. I do not know how Rhaegar and I are able to have babes, but we only tried after Rhaegar found a prophecy from old Valyria which spoke of myself and him bringing back a new age of the Targaryen family with our own bodies. We married and tried it…we got Rhaegon and now this new babe too. Doing this is instrumental to our family’s continued survival according to the prophecy, we needed to do it and we have, but our Father, who doesn’t know that Rhaegar and I are married to one another, is insisting on us marrying and he’s trying to find us suitable wives.”

“Of which you can’t allow due to your marriage vows to one another.” Ashara said perceptively.

Harry nodded. “Exactly right, my Lady. We will not dishonour each other by consummating a marriage that we don’t want, or frankly need, and we won’t dishonour the Ladies that we are forced to marry in such a way. It wouldn’t be right. Thus this little trip to Dorne. Your brother offered the Lady Ashara up as a potential candidate, Lord Dayne, and Prince Lewyn offered up his niece, the Princess Elia. The both of them are already involved, thus it is safer to approach you both with this sensitive matter.” Harry sighed as he wiggled Rhaegon’s feet and smiled as his son laughed in joyous, huffy little giggles. “If we are married to any woman who isn’t connected to this matter in any way, then our Father will hear that we have not consummated our marriages and he will want to know why, at which point he might think to ask the Kingsguard, who have an obligation to the oaths they took to him to tell him of what they know. That would put Prince Lewyn and Ser Arthur in danger as, if found out, they’ll be executed alongside Rhaegar, myself and Rhaegon too.”

“He wouldn’t! Not a sweet little babe.” Lady Ashara said with a gasp of horror.

Harry nodded. “He would. That he’s a mere babe wouldn’t stop him. He’s cruel and twisted. He threatened to burn me on public display when I was just two-and-ten. I ran to Oldtown and started learning at the Citadel. I went back to Kings Landing at five-and-ten and my reprieve lasted all of a week before he started to threaten to burn me on public display again. Rhaegar and I married in the godswood and the very next day we sailed for Dragonstone, where we had Rhaegon. We came back to Kings Landing and this time, I’ve come to Dorne before he can start threatening me or Rhaegon. He is so unstable that I’m not sure he’ll just threaten it this time. I am worried that he’ll just do it with no warning and that this time, I will not be able to get away in time as I have done in the past.”

“Where have you said that this little one, Rhaegon, came from?” Lord Dayne asked with a sigh.

“I’ve insisted that I married a woman in Volantis named Malana, she died in childbirth while Rhaegar and I were in Volantis and we came home to Dragonstone with Rhaegon after she’d died.”

“The truth of which is…?”

“We did go to Volantis, and several other of the free cities too because I like collecting Valyrian steel artefacts, but when we realised that I was pregnant, then we travelled back to Volantis, where Rhaegar’s ship was docked, at which point I was very heavily pregnant. We sailed to Dragonstone and just a few days after we arrived back, I went into labour and I had to cut Rhaegon free with no pain relief, no medicines that would knock me out. I had to cut him free myself and then stitch my body back together before I could even have a single drop of milk of the poppy and it was agony. And now I have to do it all again.” He said with a chuckle. “Maybe I am a lunatic.”

“I can’t even begin to understand this, I can’t believe that I even think that it’s true.” Lord Dayne sighed, putting his face, so much like his younger brother’s, into his hands. “But I do believe you, what does that say about me and my sanity?”

“We Targaryen’s have always done things differently.” Harry said. “We marry siblings, we have taken more than one wife in the past, not to mention the dragons.”

“The dragons are all gone.”

“As long as a Targaryen yet lives, the dragons will never truly be gone. We are the blood of the dragon and with fire and blood, we shall prosper.”

“Ashara, what do you think? I have let you and Allyria choose your own matches and thus far you have not chosen any of your worthy suitors. Would you consent to a farce wedding? At least for a time.”

Lady Ashara looked at him, scrutinising him and Harry kept eye contact with her, letting her look as much as she needed. At least until Rhaegon squawked and then Harry immediately gave his attention to his son, hefting up the, now seven moon turn old, boy and letting him peer around from his upright position. He kissed Rhaegon’s chubby cheek and smiled at him adoringly.

“I’ll do it. It’s not the worst position to be in.” Ashara explained. “A Princess of the Seven Kingdoms, even for a short while, and all the prestige and position it brings. I won’t have to lie under anyone, and I’ll be free to wait a little longer before truly marrying anyone and having children. It is actually rather perfect for my situation. I will marry you, Prince Haradarian, but I do like to dance.”

Harry laughed. “Do you know, I have never learnt, but I do have a thirst for knowledge, which is why I ran to the Citadel to learn as much as I could, so I would be very open to being taught.”

“Dornish dancing is a little…different, to the elegant, chaste dancing of the Seven Kingdoms.” Lord Dayne told him with a grin that wouldn’t be misplaced on his younger brother’s face.

“Different is good.” Harry said with a grin of his own. “I like different. I am different.”

“Then I agree to this…this farce wedding. You and Ashara will be married, but I would hope that you hold house Dayne in high regard after this mess is sorted.”

“Lord Dayne, your brother has stood over me and protected me since I was a very young boy. He is a close, personal friend to Rhaegar and I. I already held your family in high regard, but you will be highly rewarded for going along with this wedding and I hope to always call house Dayne as a close friend and ally to Rhaegar and I for generations to come.”

“How is this to be played?” Lord Dayne asked, sitting back and sighing.

“Rhaegar and Elia are to be married first. I am supposedly in mourning for my lost wife. It would be seen as obscene, an insult, if I married immediately after arriving back in the Seven Kingdoms. I would not have it said that I offered insult to my supposed dead wife or to you, my Lady. So instead, Lady Ashara, if you were to come to the capital as Princess Elia’s lady-in-waiting, perhaps we could dance at their wedding and form a connection for all the other Lords and Ladies to see.”

Ashara Dayne laughed. “Oh, but that would be fun. I must needs teach you how to dance before you leave. How long are you staying, Prince Haradarian.”

Harry sighed. “I can stay for a few days, but I still need to make a formal visit to Sunspear under the guise of asking Elia’s hand in marriage on the behalf of my brother before I can go home and I’m sure Rhaegar is missing his son, as I and Rhaegon are missing him. But, if you allow, I would come back here on my way back to Kings Landing.”

“Of course, of course.” Lord Alyn Dayne said easily, sipping his Dornish wine happily. He was in a much better mood than when Harry had arrived and dashed his hopes of a real marriage between him and his sister, Ashara.

“Would I need to care for Rhaegon during this farce marriage?” Lady Ashara asked.

Harry shook his head. “Rhaegar and I are still caring for all of his daily needs, but if I don’t ask too much, could you be kind to him. I could never accept anyone who was not kind to him.”

“Of course. He’s so sweet, happy and beautiful. May I hold him?”

Harry stood and he handed his happy, giggly boy over to Lady Ashara. She held him gently and she looked into those purple eyes with a chuckle.

“He actually looks like me. It’s a wonder that Arthur didn’t suspect me.” She laughed.

“Ser Arthur knew that Rhaegar and I were married, he was very, very shocked as Rhaegon has Rhaegar’s eyes. But it would actually really help if this new babe came out looking exactly like Rhaegon.”

“How are we to handle the new babe?” Lord Alyn asked.

“The only way to handle it is to claim that it’s the baby of either Lady Ashara or Princess Elia, depending on if the babe comes out looking more like me or more like Rhaegar…of course we can’t do anything about the colour of the eyes, we won’t know what colour they’ll turn for some weeks after the babe is born. If the babe is silver haired and we claim it as Rhaegar’s, only for the baby to have green eyes…that could be problematic, but then Rhaegar and I are still brothers, my green eyes and black hair had to have come from somewhere, so it’s reasonable that a child of Rhaegar’s could have black hair or green eyes and that a child of mine could have silver hair or purple eyes. It won’t be for long, as soon as Father is gone then we can stop the farce, but we need to protect our babies by any means that we can until then.”

“If you are two turns pregnant already…?” Lord Dayne trailed off.

Harry sighed. “It’ll be difficult, I know. We might have to claim this babe as Rhaegar and Elia’s child, which is going to be bad enough.”

“How so?”

“I produce milk for Rhaegon, I’ll do the same for my other children. If Rhaegar has to claim the babe with Elia…it’s going to be very difficult for me to feed my own baby and that would devastate me.”

“That’s why you don’t have a wet nurse with you.” Lord Dayne said, surprised. “I had wondered why until I saw the babe eating the berries. I thought that he didn’t need one, despite his young age.”

Harry nodded. “He’s eating reasonably well by himself as long as the food is completely mashed up first, but he does still need my milk a few times a day, most particularly at night.”

“Do you have…no, forget that I said anything, my Prince. It is not polite to ask.”

Harry chuckle. “Your brother asked exactly the same if you wish to ask what I believe you do. Do I actually have breasts? Funny enough he also asked if I was truly a woman too, despite knowing me for the majority of my life. The answer is yes, I do have very small breasts that grew in while I was heavily pregnant. Full of milk they are barely big enough for me to grip in my own hand, so they are barely breasts at all, more like swollen nipples, or an insect bite, but I have them.”

“Well, you have given me a lot to think about, I will have someone see you to your rooms and I will have a bath drawn for you before we sup, my Prince. I hope to be seeing much more of you in the coming times.”

Harry nodded and he took Rhaegon from the Lady Ashara and followed the servant that Lord Dayne had called to lead him to his rooms in Starfall. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when he was alone while his bath was being prepared. Lord Dayne had accepted. He was a little safer now than he had been before he’d arrived and he swallowed hard, holding back his emotional tears. That was one thing about pregnancy that he could have done without, the need to cry at odd times throughout the day. Well…that and Mother’s sickness, of course.

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Sunspear had been far too hot. So hot. Harry spent most of it walking around bare from the waist up, his breeches pulled up a little higher than usually worn to cover the scars of his birthing, and though he had tried to keep Rhaegon in the shade as much as was possible, his son had still been very grouchy and not at all his usual self. He already felt terrible as his little boy had burnt in the sun before he’d noticed that it was too hot for an infant. He was still soothing Rhaegon’s skin with an ointment that he’d made during his stay in Sunspear and he applied it every few hours, as such it was taking longer to get back home than he’d first estimated as they kept needing to stop.
He’d spent a very pleasant week in Sunspear with the Princess of Dorne and her children, Prince Doran, his two young children, the five year old Arianne and the newly born Quentyn, Princess Elia and the youngest of her children, Prince Oberyn, who had delighted in the truth of his marriage to Rhaegar and had spent the entire of his time in Sunspear flirting with him, touching him under the guise of teaching him Dornish dancing, which was definitely not like the chaste dancing the Ladies preferred back home, and trying to get Harry into his bed.
He was thankful to be back in the Crownlands after being gone for almost two turns, he was going to arrive back in Kings Landing just in time for his seventeenth name day. Rhaegon was eight turns old now and rapidly closing in on nine turns. He needed to be bonding with his Father again.
He now had a bigger entourage than when he’d first left, as the Princess Elia and Lady Ashara were accompanying him back to Kings Landing and they had knights and hand maidens of their own. Harry was riding beside their litter, being pulled by strong, large horses. Rhaegon, who had taken a liking to both Ladies, absolutely loved riding in their litter with them, he liked playing with their soft pillows and floaty, lacy dresses.
They had passed straight through Bitterbridge in the early morn. They had stopped only for a small break and for Harry to pay his respects to Lord Caswell before they’d mounted up and carried on. Harry was planning on riding the remaining journey continuously now, Rhaegon tied to his body. They only had the Kingswood to navigate through and then it would be an unimpeded road to Kings Landing. They should arrive back by dusk if he had calculated right, with just enough time to freshen up before they supped.
The loud, chaotic attack came out of nowhere and Harry was as startled as everyone else when they suddenly came under attack in the Kingswood.

“My Prince Haradarian, flee!” One knight yelled out to him loudly. Harry could have cursed him, because now their attackers were completely focused on him, because he was a Prince.

“Lady Ashara, Princess Elia, take Rhaegon and run!” Harry ordered calmly and sternly, taking Rhaegon from his sling and jumping down from his horse and handing him over to the terrified Ashara. “You must run to Kings Landing, go, now. Keep to the road and keep moving! Do not stop for anyone and for no longer than necessary. See yourselves safe.”

Harry unsheathed his dagger and he slit their dresses from waist to hem so that they could run without tripping before he drew his sword and he covered them fiercely until he got them free of the mess and he sent them running down the road with a crying Rhaegon and a group of their terrified handmaidens and attendants.
He stayed there, in front of the path, cutting down anyone who tried to pass to follow the group of young women and his baby son. He tried to organise the household knights, but they were more used to tourney fighting than real fighting and many of them had already thrown down their arms and fled. He needed knights of renown here, like those of the Kingsguard.
He had no shield, so as he was fighting he took numerous nicks and scratches to his body, but it was inevitable that after a time he took a blade deep into the meat of his right shoulder and he cried out at the pain. A deep wound it may have been, but it was not life threatening as it had merely taken a chunk of flesh from him, but it was a painful one nonetheless and he wore no armour, not even an ornamental breastplate, to protect himself. He was relying more on dodging and meeting his opponent’s blade with his own. He swallowed the bitter bile of fear back down as he thought of his unborn babe before cursing and shoving such thoughts away. Whatever happened here now, it was going to happen and it was in the hands of the gods. He was just so thankful that he had gotten his baby Rhaegon away. He prayed to the Warrior for his own survival and to the Mother for his babes’ survival, his Rhaegon and his unborn baby both, but he fought on for as long as he could…until he was exhausted and a bout of Mother’s sickness that he couldn’t control in the slightest had him vomiting onto the forest floor. There were too many of them and his knights had abandoned him or they had been struck down until he was the only one left fighting.
He was near enough alone, those who had not already fled were lying, dead or dying, on the floor and Harry was disarmed and bound. He tried not to hear the victory speeches being made around him by his captors, the Kingswood Brotherhood if he’d heard them right, as they boasted of capturing a Prince and told him what was to be done with him. They were not going to ask for a ransom, they were planning to kill him slowly and painfully to make an example of him in the name of the smallfolk. Harry wondered if this Brotherhood knew that most of the smallfolk adored him and called him Haradarian the Heart…he wondered if they cared as he was stripped naked with glee, his captors taking any valuables that he had on him, including his Maester’s chain, before they kicked him about like a stray dog. He covered his baby belly as much as he could with his bound arms, but he feared that it was already too late as a hideous pain started in his back and belly, like the pain he had had when he’d gone into labour…a babe would not survive a labour at just two turns.
Talk of rape had started, as one man touched his smooth skin and actually put his slimy tongue on his body. Harry took note of his face. If he lived through this, he would have that tongue ripped out and nailed to the entrance of Traitors Walk.
Thankfully someone else, one who was apparently very disgusted by the idea of a man even thinking of another man in such a way, much less actually fucking one, condemned the other man and instead took charge and outlined what was going to happen. Harry, injured, bleeding, in agony and fearful for his unborn babe and for himself, was instead stuffed into a small crow cage and suspended from a tree. He tried to stay awake, but he found the alluring darkness of oblivion was much stronger and instead, he slipped into unconsciousness.

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Ser Barristan was stood just outside the city walls of Kings Landing. Four of his sworn brothers, Ser Gerold and Ser Jonothor and then Ser Oswell and Ser Arthur, had been stood out here all night in pairs, switching in shifts to look out for Prince Haradarian and his party, who had been due back yesterday evening. As it approached midday, tensions were climbing and there was still no sign of Prince Haradarian and the infant Prince Rhaegon.

“He should have been here by now.” Prince Rhaegar Targaryen said for the seventh time as he paced back and forth on the grass.

“Mayhaps he stopped for longer than planned at Bitterbridge.” Queen Rhaella tried to comfort, but her words were empty, she was as worried as her oldest son and her gaze kept flitting nervously up the road that disappeared into the Kingswood.

“He said that he’d be here by dusk yesterday. It is now almost midmorning, something has happened, I can feel it.” Rhaegar was getting angrier by the moment, Ser Barristan realised.

“Has he been attacked by the Brotherhood?” Little Prince Viserys asked worriedly from where he was holding his Father’s hand.

“Of course not, darling. They would not dare to touch a Prince.” Queen Rhaella soothed.

Rhaegar’s face told Ser Barristan that he did not believe his Mother any more than he himself did. The Brotherhood had been gaining a massive following among the smallfolk and King Aerys was doing nothing. Innocent people were being attacked, assaulted, robbed, raped or even killed on the roads through the Kingswood and the King would do nothing. It was a very distressing time for anyone who needed to travel through the Kingswood and many, if they had any other choice, refused to go through it.
Despite his watchfulness, Ser Barristan was still shocked and alarmed when a group of muddied, bloodied young women came bursting up the road to Kings Landing as fast as they could manage, several of them in tears, their dresses ripped and dirty, every dress had the sides slit up to the waist. More victims of the Brotherhood, he thought as his armoured hand clenched tightly as he saw the young babe the one woman was cradling tightly. The babe wasn’t moving and his stomach turned as he feared the worst.
As they got closer, Ser Arthur suddenly screamed like an enraged boar and he went running towards the women, screaming his sister’s name, Ashara. Ser Barristan was stunned to come to the same conclusion as he saw the black hair, tangled around broken twigs, and the tearful purple eyes…if these women were the Lady Ashara and Princess Elia along with their handmaidens, then Prince Haradarian had been attacked by the Brotherhood in the Kingswood. Rhaegar went charging after Ser Arthur and it was as he took the babe and cradled him close that Barristan realised that the babe who had been cradled by the young Lady Ashara was in fact Haradarian’s son, the youngest Prince, Rhaegon. He and his other brothers had automatically followed after Rhaegar once he had moved and they were all worried as their Prince checked over the young babe.

“What happened?!” Prince Rhaegar yelled out once he was assured that the babe was well, drawing in a crowd of smallfolk and city watchmen.

“We were attacked in the Kingswood, they came out of nowhere.” A tearful Lady Ashara told them.

“Where is Prince Haradarian?! Where is my brother?!” Rhaegar yelled, his face going red with his anger.

A tittering from the smallfolk drew Ser Barristan’s attention. He was pleased to note that they looked worried and angry at the news…Haradarian the Heart had never died in their eyes. If it was one Prince that they wouldn’t allow to be hurt, it was Haradarian.

“He passed us Rhaegon, he got us down from the litter and slit our dresses and he told us to run.” Princess Elia sobbed. “He got us free of the fighting and pushed us down the road. He stood there, not allowing anyone to pass to give us time to run. I don’t know what happened after that.” She insisted.

“We never stopped running.” Lady Ashara cried, safely in her brother’s arms. “Not for a moment. We almost lost our way in the night, but we got here as soon as we could.”

“Mount up.” Prince Rhaegar told them. “Ser Harlan, get these Ladies to the Red Keep and attend to them in any way that they need. You will guard them, and Prince Rhaegon, with your life.”

“My Prince, perhaps it would be best if you stayed. They have one Prince already, we don’t want to give them two.” Ser Jonothor Darry said.

“I am going to get my brother back.” Rhaegar spat.

“You will stay here.” King Aerys spoke up for the first time in a soft, croak of a voice. “Ser Arthur will lead the attack and wipe out these pests once and for all.”

“Your Grace?” The Lord Commander, Ser Gerold Hightower, questioned a little uncertainly.

“You will stay with me.” King Aerys insisted as he turned and headed back into the city, making for the Red Keep. Queen Rhaella, Viserys, the two Ladies and their handmaidens going with them.

Prince Rhaegar let out such a yell of frustrated anger that he sounded like a great, wounded beast, but he had no choice but to follow with his infant Nephew in his arms and neither did Ser Harlan Grandison or Ser Gerold Hightower.

“I will bring him back to you.” Barristan swore as Prince Rhaegar passed him.

Those purple eyes were so sad, so worried, so scared that Barristan almost reached out to physically reassure the man in front of him, but he refrained.

“Please do.” Rhaegar said, his voice cracking. “I don’t know what I would do without him.”

Barristan steeled himself as the city watch brought out horses from the stables and Lord Crakehall, who was visiting for Prince Haradarian’s seventeenth name day next week, came trotting out on his own horse, his two young squires, Merrett Frey and Jaime Lannister, attending him.

“I can’t let you have all the fun.” He declared as he made sure his sword was loose in its scabbard.

Ser Barristan swung himself up as several other visiting Lords or younger sons, who again were all here for Prince Haradarian’s seventeenth name day, mounted up with their squires to ride with them and Ser Arthur set off as if all the demons of the seven hells were after him. The Ladies had told them that they were almost out of the Kingswood when they were attacked and they had been on foot and it had taken them only several hours to reach Kings Landing, with the pace that they were setting, they would make good time and they would hopefully reach Prince Haradarian in time.
It was not as simple as that though, the outlaws had moved on from the site of the attack, of which they’d found easily due to the numerous dead bodies scattered over the road, and they’d taken Prince Haradarian with them. It took them days of scouring the Kingswood to find even a hint of the Brotherhood, and only then it was because the smallfolk helped them, opening up like a flower to the sun when they heard that their Prince Haradarian had been taken captive by those they saw as their protectors. After several skirmishes over the next few days, in which one of Lord Crakehall’s squires’, Merrett Frey, was taken captive, they still had not found the leader of the group, believed to be Simon Toyne, who bore a severe grudge against the Targaryen family after the disgrace and destruction of his own family, nor any hint of the insane Smiling Knight, who had been seen with the Brotherhood.
They regrouped at Kings Landing, informed the King, and the raging Prince Rhaegar, of what was happening while Lord Sumner Crakehall ransomed his squire back, which lost them a lot of time, but they needed to gather information and that took time as Ser Arthur headed out yet again, day after day, trying to gain the trust of the smallfolk who lived in the Kingswood, particularly those who lived near Bitterbridge, promising them more rights to take away their reason for needing the Brotherhood. He went to King Aerys personally to ensure that the smallfolk got what they needed in order to exchange that for information on the movements of the Brotherhood and any news or hint of Prince Haradarian, but it took time to gain the trust of the down beaten smallfolk. Time that they didn’t have as every day they lost was another day that Prince Haradarian was a prisoner, it was another day that they didn’t have any news of him or his condition.
Long, endless seeming days passed and then Sumner Crakehall was approached by one of his men to announce that his squire, Merrett Frey, had been found wandering through the Kingswood close to Kings Landing. His injured squire who limped back to them after his ransom had been paid with his arse branded with a fawn, by Wenda the white fawn, meaning that he could not even sit down, much less ride a horse.
After brutal, extensive questioning by a furious, very impatient Prince Rhaegar, it emerged that Merrett Frey had not seen the Prince Haradarian and the Prince hadn’t been where he himself was being kept captive and not one of his captors had mentioned the Prince at all during his stay with the Brotherhood. Which made Merrett Frey quite useless to them really, even hearing that the Prince was still alive would have buoyed their hopes, but there had been no word, no sightings and no demand for a ransom. Why would the Brotherhood take a ransom for Merrett Frey, but not take the very hefty price that was being offered to them for Prince Haradarian’s safe return? The only thing he could think of was that Haradarian was not in a good way and that the demand for him to be released unharmed was not possible, because he had already been harmed. His guts twisted at such a thought and he tried to remain calm.
Their waiting for Merrett Frey’s release had yielded them nothing, the information they had hoped for was denied them and once again they headed out into the Kingswood, searching for the missing Prince, or any sign of the Brotherhood. They searched for long days, getting up with the sun and only stopping when they lost the light, eating and drinking in the saddles of their horses, only stopping to relieve themselves and to give their horses a small rest, but there was no hint of the Brotherhood and certainly no sign of Prince Haradarian. The Brotherhood were always one step ahead of them, even though they could no longer take refuge with the smallfolk, whom Ser Arthur had won the trust of by keeping his word and getting them better rights from King Aerys, who was acting as if Haradarian was his most beloved son as he promised death to all those who had taken him captive.
They spent another two long, gruelling days hunting through the Kingswood for the rebel outlaws, on the third, by a stroke of complete luck, they were flagged down by a washer woman, who told them that she had been approached for some food by the Brotherhood just that morning. She told them quickly that she had given them the food because she had been intimidated by them and what she described as their aura of menace, but she went on to explain that Prince Haradarian had once shown her great kindness when he had given her medicine and a pain killer for a twisted ankle and she told them that he had even escorted her home, even though it was so far out of his way, and she informed Barristan and his sworn brothers in which direction the two members of the Brotherhood had headed in after she’d given them some food.
The Gods were looking down upon them more favourably as they rode their mounts hard in the direction that the washer woman had pointed them in and it was not a day later that they caught up the outlaws, surprising them in their makeshift camp for that day.
When they did finally reach the little group of rebels, however, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him. The young boy who he had seen being born in the Great Sept of Baelor on the holy day of the Mother, the boy that he had given a hand to raising over the last seventeen years now, the boy he saw as his own son, was stripped naked and bound, beaten to a bloody pulp with wounds all over his body. He was dirty, skinny and hanging, limp and lifeless, unconscious in a small crow cage that was hanging from a tree like he was the worst of criminals.
Barristan leapt from his horse with a speed that he hadn’t known for several years now, he swung his sword with ferocious force, cutting down these outlaws who had dared harm Haradarian. Who had dared to beat him and put him in a crow cage for almost a full turn. He didn’t wait for them to be ready from where they’d been startled by their sudden appearance, charging in on horseback, yelling and shouting, cutting them down as they sat eating, drinking or even sleeping.
He clashed with the insane, deadly swordsman known as the Smiling Knight, before their fight was interrupted and Barristan was then fighting the leader of the outlaw band, who was confirmed now as Simon Toyne. He unleashed all of his frustrations and anger upon this one person, who he suspected was behind not ransoming the Prince back, and likely for all the hideous injuries that he’d suffered too, and he killed Simon with a ferocious blow to the ribs that shattered bone and tore into soft flesh, releasing great gouts of blood that spurted from the wounds that Barristan had inflicted upon him, sending a torrent of hot blood over Barristan’s hands as he almost cleaved the man in two.
He took a breather and turned around, surveying the small clearing for more foes, but everything was well in hand as they had taken the Brotherhood by surprise and that had most certainly worked in their favour. The most fierce clash still being fought was between Ser Arthur and the Smiling Knight, but with a vicious swing of his pale, ancestral family sword, Dawn, Ser Arthur put an end to that and took his own breather after pulling his sword from the Smiling Knight’s chest, removing his helm to swipe at the sweat on his face.
Only three members of the Kingswood Brotherhood were still alive, they were being tied up and treated like dogs themselves, but all of the others, even Wenda, were finally dead or awaiting justice in the dungeon of the Red Keep with this last, final clash. It had taken them almost a full turn to find Prince Haradarian, while worrying about the state of his health or if he was even still alive, but they had finally found him and they had him back.
Barristan didn’t wait to be told, as soon as the battling had been done and the three survivors had been secured, he was the one to climb the tree, up to the crow cage, and he used his sword to break open the door to the tiny crow cage. He sheathed his sword and gently, carefully, picked up the limp body of Prince Haradarian. He had to sling the naked boy over his shoulder to carry him safely and he begged the Prince to forgive him the further indignity while he climbed down to the ground, where Ser Arthur was waiting with his white cloak spread between his hands ready to receive the Prince.
Barristan laid the Prince into Ser Arthur’s arms and he wrapped the white cloak around his Prince carefully. A powerful, convulsive shiver wracked the Prince’s body and blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. That terrified him, it terrified them all as it signified internal injuries and they had all seen men bleeding from the mouth before, as they lay dying on the battlefield from their injuries. He tore off his own white cloak and wrapped that around the shivering Prince too and he swung himself up onto his horse, taking the tiny body into his own lap from Ser Arthur. He prayed to the Seven that the Prince pulled through, he didn’t know what Rhaegar would do if he didn’t…he didn’t know what the King would do if he died and that was a frightening thought.

“If this boy dies, you’ll wish that you had not begged for mercy.” Ser Arthur spat at the three survivors as he wiped his hands clean…they had been smeared with the Prince’s blood.

“I found his dagger and his chain.” Ser Oswell said as he opened a chest filled with stolen coin and jewellery. Haradarian’s Valyrian steel dagger, a name day gift from Rhaegar, was on the top, along with his Maester’s chain. His sword was nowhere to be seen.

Ser Oswell took the entire chest and after the camp had been searched, for more chests of coin or valuables that had been stolen from innocent people, or even for more hostages or enemies, they all mounted up to make their way back to the road that would take them back to Kings Landing.
Barristan rode as quickly as he could, while keeping Prince Haradarian as still as he could. It was difficult on the back of a horse, but he did the best as he could as he squeezed the horse between both thighs and used just one hand to direct it.
The Prince kept shivering in his arms, fresh blood staining the white cloaks that he was wrapped up in…if he could bleed through two cloaks visibly in just a few hours, then he was seriously hurt and he needed the attention of a Maester, but there was nothing that they could do, they had to stop when night fell and they lost the light of the sun as it was unsafe to carry on through the trees in the darkness as they had left the road to attack the Brotherhood.
It was Prince Lewyn and Ser Arthur who unwrapped the tiny, naked body, cutting the tight ropes that were binding the Prince’s hands and his ankles tightly and they looked the young Prince over, but none of them were Maesters, or even field medics, and besides covering the most obvious of the wounds, of which there were many, they had to wait until they got back to Kings Landing and by then it was entirely possible that it would be much too late. They had been too late to save him from pain and they might yet be too late to save him from death too.

“Prince Haradarian! Can you hear me?”

Barristan looked up and his heart stopped for a moment when he saw those green eyes slitted open.

“‘Agar?”

“Rhaegar isn’t here. We’re taking you to him, my Prince.” Ser Arthur insisted. “As fast as we can, just, hold on, please.”

“‘Aegon?”

“Rhaegon got to Kings Landing safely. He’s fine, he’s unharmed and he’s safe.”

“Girls?”

“They got there safely too, all thanks to you by all accounts. Here, take a bit of water.”

Prince Lewyn helped Prince Haradarian to sit up, resting the Prince on his own body as he couldn’t hold himself upright and he was very floppy and weak. Ser Arthur held up a skin of water, helping him to drink. At least until those eyes opened again and the Prince almost choked on the mouthful of water he’d just taken as he flailed in terror.
Barristan looked around quickly, his hand jumping to the pommel of his sword, but spied only the three captives. He wanted to stave in their heads just for the look of fear and panic they had put on Haradarian’s young, battered face.

“Worry not about them, they are our captives.” Barristan tried to sooth, but the Prince stared silently, fearfully at them. At just the one of them, Barristan corrected himself and he narrowed his eyes on the one, filthy man.

“What did he do to you?” Prince Lewyn asked, shifting the Prince to the side before standing and drawing his sword, moving forward, towards the captives.

“I want him alive.” Harry croaked, more blood dribbling from his mouth, but saying that much together seemed to be too much for the Prince, or maybe it was trying to support himself upright when he had neither the strength nor the energy for it, as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out flat.

Ser Arthur caught him quickly and laid him down gently on the bed of white cloaks that he was staining with his precious blood.

“What did you do?” Prince Lewyn demanded, bearing down on the one man whom Haradarian had been most afraid of.

The man spat discoloured saliva at Prince Lewyn and smirked nastily. “He has such soft, pale skin. Such a sweet delight.”

Barristan’s stomach sank and he clenched both hands and his teeth at the hint, the threat, in those words. If Prince Haradarian had been violated while in captivity…no, the thought was too horrible to comprehend. He couldn’t think of it, not of his young boy, it was too cruel a fate for him.
Prince Lewyn launched himself at the man, sword in hand, but Ser Oswell caught him and prevented him from slicing open the outlaw.

“Why did you…?!”

“Our Prince wants him alive.” Ser Oswell reminded him calmly. “If there is to be any retribution, he has first rights to it. Seeing justice done often helps a man to recover from such traumas.”

Prince Lewyn snarled, but he sheathed his sword and paced like a caged animal.

“I am going to guard you personally.” He told the filthy man seriously. “I’m going to make sure that you stay alive and healthy enough to face the Prince’s punishment. You can’t hurt him any longer.”

The man smirked again, showing the brown stumps he had for teeth. “I’ve already hurt him in ways that he’ll never recover from.” He insisted, trying to rile them up, likely to end his life with suicide by sword instead of facing true justice at the hands of Haradarian back at Kings Landing. He already knew that nothing good was coming to him if he reached the capital alive. He should never have begged for mercy in the first place.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Barristan said with a calmness that he wasn’t feeling, but his voice had an immediate effect on all of his brothers as their shoulders relaxed and their postures became less tense. “He is a dragon, and dragons are not that easy to harm. He has already passed through some of the worst hardships in his young life and he’s done so with a smile and a laugh. He’s going to heal from this, he’s going to be just fine and you will wish that you had never even lain eyes upon him. You’re going to beg for death before the end, I can assure you of that.”

Barristan ate some of the hard salt beef that they had packed for the road, gnawing on it and washing it down with river water. He was not worried. Haradarian had more than proved himself over his mere seventeen years. He was not a knight, having never squired for anyone officially, but he had the essence of one coupled with the brain of an ancient Maester and the heart of the Mother herself.
He had lost four brothers and a sister, he had to watch his Mother being downtrodden and heartbroken with every loss, with every miscarriage, but still he smiled. He had had to live with a Father who had all but disowned him, claiming him a bastard child, threatening to burn him alive. He had lived with that worry, that fear, daily but he had still laughed through it. He had found love, only for the Stranger to take his young Wife away almost immediately afterwards, leaving him a young Father to a premature boy who he had also feared would be taken from him, but a better Father Barristan had never seen. Haradarian doted upon his small son, caring for him, loving him so fiercely that it was a wonder he could stand handing him over to others even for a short time.
He saw in Haradarian all of the strong, good qualities of an honourable, just man who loved as fiercely as he punished. He did not hold any disdain for the smallfolk just because they were born lower, he helped them as much as he did his friends in Highgarden or Oldtown. Prince Lewyn boasted of when Haradarian had ruled Kings Landing so fairly, so justly during the Defiance of Duskendale at just two-and-ten and Ser Oswell was fond of repeating the story of Prince Haradarian’s last day in Kings Landing two years ago, where he had given out coins and food, rejecting any change for items he’d purchased and how he had helped a little street urchin and a small, sick girl, just because he could. Barristan was proud of this young boy and he had meant his words, if anyone could survive this ordeal and come out of it unchanged, it was his Haradarian.
It took them another two days to make it back to the capital and in that time the Prince rarely woke and he hadn’t eaten anything either, they had dribbled small sips of water from a skin into his mouth and helped him to swallow when he choked upon it. He was still bleeding sluggishly and he dipped in and out of consciousness, having moments where he went so floppy and limp that they feared that he might have died in their arms.
They reached Kings Landing as the sun was at its highest on the second day of the Prince’s release and Prince Haradarian looked so much worse under the harsh sunlight, out in the open and out from the cover of the dense trees and foliage of the Kingswood. His skin was grey and clammy, his lips were white, his eyelids purple, he was still floppy and unconscious and the bleeding hadn’t stopped yet. The dried blood and mud on him made him look already dead, but it was the fresh blood that worried them the most, their Prince was still heaving up blood from his insides and it was a very bad sign. He prayed again, fervently, that they were not too late, that they had gotten him home in time for him to be healed.
Barristan, who had the Prince in his arms once again, did not stop once they reached the Red Keep on horseback. He leapt down from his horse, ignoring the gasps of guards and servants alike as they saw the state of their Prince after his captivity. He hurried past Prince Rhaegar, who looked like he hadn’t slept at all in the last few weeks, as he made his way quickly to Grand Maester Pycelle’s rooms. Rhaegar, who hadn’t stopped him, was hurrying behind him and then before him, running much faster as he was not weighted down by heavy armour or a delicate, injured person.
They found Grand Maester Pycelle in the climax of entertaining a whore and Prince Rhaegar almost shouted himself hoarse at the scene they had burst into as he threw the naked girl roughly out into the corridor without her clothes and threatened the Grand Maester with castration.

“How dare you break your vows?!” He was shouting, even as Barristan laid the tiny Prince down on a clean bed. “How dare you lie with anyone when you knew that Haradarian could have been brought here at any moment!”

“My Prince, allow the Maester to see to your brother, he is in a very bad way.” Barristan soothed, getting the older Prince’s mind focusing on something else, something much more important.

Rhaegar all but deflated and he sunk into a chair beside the bed as Grand Maester Pycelle, cowed and browbeaten into a quaking silence, removed the layers of white cloaks to reveal the beaten, bloody mess of the body below.
Barristan watched Rhaegar’s face turn a paler shade of whitish-green, as if he were going to be sick, as all the blood drained slowly from his face as he looked upon his beloved younger brother. When the makeshift dressings were removed to reveal the inflamed, infected wounds below, Rhaegar was actually sick into a convenient bowl.
It took hours to clean and dress the numerous injuries that Haradarian had sustained, large and small, patiently easing various medicines into his body by massaging his throat in his unconsciousness and through it all, he slept on, his breathing ragged and uneven, his body convulsing at odd moments, causing fresh blood to seep from his mouth, and at one point his nose too.

“I have done all that I can for the moment.” Pycelle insisted. “He needs to rest.”

Rhaegar didn’t wait to be told twice, he scooped up his brother and carried him, unthinkingly, to his own bed chambers.

“My Prince?” Barristan asked.

“He’s staying here, where I can watch him at all hours.” Rhaegar answered firmly. “Rhaegon has been staying in my room too.” He nodded to the cradle that Haradarian had had made by a woodworker down in Kings Landing instead of importing one from across the sea as was the usual custom of royalty and the nobility. It had made him very popular with the woodworker, his apprentices, and their families. It was a beautiful cradle, carved with dragons and the Targaryen sigil and painted red and black. Haradarian had been so happy with it that he had paid more than what was being asked for it, as a tip for good service and better craftsmanship.

Barristan watched as the oldest Prince finished cleaning off his brother’s body and dressed him in a very loose tunic…one of his own, Barristan realised as it was much too big to be one of Haradarian’s.
Rhaegar tucked his brother in and then just sort of hovered over him, not knowing what to do next, but needing to do something, needing something to keep his mind occupied.

“There were three survivors of the Brotherhood, my Prince.” Barristan informed him and he knew that it had been the right thing to say when those purple eyes lit up with a renewed purpose. “Prince Haradarian woke up just once in the Kingswood and he informed us that he wanted the one to remain alive, the other two, however…” Barristan trailed off and Rhaegar inhaled deeply.

“Did he say why the one had to remain alive?”

“I believe that he wants to administer his own personal punishment upon him.”

Prince Rhaegar nodded, looked back at the bed, to his brother, and then he straightened his back. “I shall deal with the other two, then. Please stay here and guard my brother, Ser.”

Barristan nodded and he got into a defensive position, standing two paces from the side of the bed, facing the door, his hand on the pommel of his sword, which was loose in its scabbard, ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice.
Prince Rhaegar left to exact his own revenge upon the two prisoners that Haradarian hadn’t claimed for himself and Barristan was left standing with his back straight, his eyes focused solely upon the door, ready and willing to defend the boy behind him with his very life. No one was hurting the boy behind him again, not on his watch.
He was relieved from his duty several hours later by the Lord Commander himself and in that time, Prince Haradarian hadn’t even stirred, but neither had he heaved up any more blood, which could only be counted as a good thing at this stage.
The following week was the hardest, was the most strained and tense week that Barristan could remember ever living through. Prince Rhaegar was filled with wroth and he was not only taking on a likeness of his Father, he was revelling in the pain of the two men who had harmed his brother. King Aerys was oddly proud of this behaviour and the frail man was sitting back and enjoying the pain also, as Rhaegar directed what was to happen to the men, doled out, unquestioned, by the King’s Justice, Ser Ardwell Celtigar. At least Prince Rhaegar still had enough about himself to order all women away from the scene and had forbidden Prince Viserys and Prince Rhaegon from being present for the daily torture of the two men, who had both started begging for death on the very first day of their punishments. A plea that had, so far, been ignored and not granted.
The very next day, marking the first day of the second week of Prince Haradarian’s rescue, Prince Rhaegar executed both men with fire, which pleased his Father so much that the old man cried proud, happy tears and he embraced his oldest son for long minutes with his weakening arms.
Ser Barristan only found out why Prince Rhaegar had executed the two men so suddenly when a grey coloured Prince Haradarian was helped to a chair for the midday meal that same day. He was not the only one to let out a shaky breath of relief at seeing the young Prince awake, even if he did look terrible and close to death still with his eyes glassy and surrounded by blackish-purple circles. He was naked from the waist up, his one shoulder heavily bandaged, the other arm strapped up, and his body was still bruised and there were odd cuts and scars everywhere. He looked tired, tired and sad.

“Sit carefully.” Rhaegar told his brother as he helped Haradarian sit with a grimace of pain. “Is that okay? Do you need anything? Water perhaps?”

“Water please.” Haradarian all but whispered, his voice tight with pain and hushed with disuse.

Rhaegar almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to get the water for his brother and he helped him to drink from the goblet.

“Do you want some broth?”

Harry shook his head. “No, I need my son.”

“He’s been fed, he’s taking a small nap.” Rhaegar insisted. “Just rest for a moment. I don’t like you being up and out of bed.”

“I’m not wasting my life in bed.” Harry insisted with a croak, his voice breaking on his last word.

“You only woke up this morning, you need more rest than that.”

“You said I’d been in bed for a week, sleeping. That’s plenty of rest.” Haradarian said stubbornly and Barristan smiled. He was so happy, so relieved to see him awake and up that he just wanted to hug the boy tight and hold him close.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard.” Rhaegar said firmly.

“Don’t fuss, Rhaegar. You’ll turn into an old woman. You’ll be embroidering and weaving soon.”

“If you weren’t so injured you’d get a whack for that.” Rhaegar insisted with an indulgent smile.

Haradarian laughed at that. It was tired and soft, but Barristan closed his eyes and savoured the sound. It was the sweetest laugh he’d yet heard, made all the more special because of the circumstances and the horrors of captivity that Haradarian had suffered through. That anyone could wake up from what he had suffered through and still laugh and smile…Haradarian was probably the strongest man that Barristan knew in ways that other men could hardly comprehend.

“Eat something, just a little bit.” Rhaegar insisted.

Haradarian sighed. “You wait until I’m better so I can hit you with more force than a dropped feather.”

Rhaegar just smiled, more alert and alive than he’d been in the last few weeks as he picked up a small spoon and dipped it into a pot of honey. He held the spoon out and Haradarian gave in and took the honey from the spoon with his mouth, being fed like a babe by his older brother as neither of his arms would be able to hold anything.

“You knew I wouldn’t resist the honey.” Haradarian accused.

“You never can. Honey is your weakness.”

Haradarian just smiled weakly and took another spoon of honey and some more water. They carried this on in near silence for a little longer before Haradarian took a last spoon of honey and then shook his head.

“No more, Rhaegar.” He said before turning to put his back to his brother before lying back and resting on him.

Rhaegar immediately shifted and pulled Harry into his lap to cradle him more securely. Haradarian didn’t protest, he was already half asleep and Rhaegar ignored everyone else as he stood up and carried his brother back to bed. It was just a relief to finally see Prince Haradarian up and about and, mostly, unchanged. He was still hurt, still injured and he needed more time to heal fully, but he was alive and he was recovering. That was the best news that Barristan had heard in a long while.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Harry was so sad over the next few days. He was still recovering from his brutal captivity with the Kingswood Brotherhood and from the subsequent miscarriage he had suffered. The both of them, him and Rhaegar, were devastated by the loss of their second child and Harry was struggling to cope with it all, his miscarriage, his captivity and the abuse and rape he had suffered through.
Rhaegar was being very gentle with him, so soft and careful and Harry was finding it tiresome as it continued. He just wanted his Husband back, the man he had married. He was grateful for the help, as he did need it, but the way Rhaegar placed his hands carefully, avoiding certain areas, it was driving Harry insane as he just wanted things to be normal again, he wanted to try for another baby with Rhaegar, but his Husband refused him, telling him that he was nowhere near enough healed or recovered. Harry wondered if he would ever be recovered enough in Rhaegar’s mind.
The best thing, however, was being reunited with his baby son, Rhaegon, who was now nine turns old. He had missed Rhaegon so much as he was stuck, suffering, in a crow cage as he was fed crumbs and given barely enough water to keep himself alive. He had spent his seventeenth name day that way.
His arms shook as he held the heavy babe, who felt like he was made entirely of stone to his weakened arms, but he refused to let him go or put him down. Viserys was very rough in his greeting and he almost bowled Harry over onto his arse. He might have fallen if not for Prince Lewyn catching and steadying him.
It took four days after he’d first woken up before someone broached the subject of his captivity, and the remaining prisoner who was jailed in the deepest, darkest and dankest cell that they could find for him. Naturally it was King Aerys who broached the subject while the royal family, and their esteemed guests, Princess Elia and Lady Ashara, were breaking their fast.

“Haradarian, my son.” King Aerys greeted feebly as he all but collapsed into his chair and used his overgrown fingernails to tear into a loaf of bread.

“Father.” Harry greeted, a bit more colour to his cheeks today, a bit more alertness to his dark, grass green eyes.

“You still have not punished the prisoner that you wanted to keep alive. Such an insult cannot go unpunished. You need to pass your judgement on him and have him punished!”

“Pardon?” He asked, a look of confusion on his weary face.

“You asked for one prisoner to be kept alive.” Rhaegar told him. “Three were taken alive, but the other two were executed, leaving just the one remaining.”

“I don’t remember.” He said. “I believed them all dead.”

“No, there was one in particular that you asked to be kept alive, my Prince.” Ser Arthur said softly, respectfully.

“If you do not remember, I will have him brought up for you.” King Aerys said as he dipped bread chunks into honey before putting it in his mouth.

Harry nodded his agreement and he sighed, turned off his food by the thought of even one member of his captors surviving.

“Mother, I am sorry to ask you again after you’ve already done so much, but could you please watch Rhaegon for me while I sort this matter?”

“Of course, Haradarian. I love spending time with him, you just get better, my love.”

Harry sighed and he kissed his son before handing him over to his Mother. He checked on all of his wounds for tears or bleeding before dipping a clean linen cloth in a mixture that he’d made from boiled water, vinegar, salt and crushed cloves that he’d taken from the pouches tied to his belt before pressing against each and every single wound he had with gritted teeth, asking Rhaegar to tend the wounds on his back that he couldn’t easily reach.
He had replaced the ugly, haphazard stitches given to him by the aging Pycelle with small, neat little rows of stitches that would heal much quicker and much more neatly. There was talk of dismissing the Grand Maester from his position as he had been caught abed with a prostitute, which went against his oaths as a servant of the Citadel, and he had clearly aged too much to adequately put in stitches. Harry was pushing for his replacement as an unasked favour to house Tyrell, as Gormon Tyrell, Lord Mace Tyrell’s Uncle, was next in line for the Grand Maester position.
Once he was done with the bathing of his wounds, Harry stood with Rhaegar’s strong arm for support. The Ladies were staying here to do whatever they were going to do as they moved over to the soft seats around the fire down the other end of the hall. Ser Willem Darry, the Master-at-arms took Viserys for his sword practice and Harry headed to the Great Hall with Rhaegar and their Father, the Kingsguard following, all except for ancient Harlan Grandison, who was to stand guard over the Ladies, the Queen and Prince Rhaegon.
His legs almost folded on him when he saw exactly who was being dragged towards him, Rhaegar had to catch him, but his reaction did not go unnoticed by those in attendance. He shook almost violently as he looked, with furious eyes, at this vile beast, held on his knees before him.
He breathed deeply and swallowed hard. He breathed out harshly and he held on tightly to Rhaegar’s arm for support and comfort.

“Why did you want this one alive?” Rhaegar asked.

Harry swallowed again. “He used me like a woman.” He admitted softly, clutching Rhaegar’s arm, feeling the muscle tense under his own hands. “Every night of my captivity when everyone else was asleep.”

“You wanted to punish him personally.” King Aerys hissed softly.

Harry nodded silently, staring at the huddled form below him. Everything was silent for a moment before Harry turned to the King’s Justice, Lord Ardwell Celtigar, whose family had been banner men of the Targaryens since they had brought them closer to Westeros from Valyria over four centuries before and saving them, and the Velaryons, from the Doom of Valyria that would have otherwise seen their entire families wiped out like so many others.

“Take his tongue and his manhood.” He said dispassionately remembering his thoughts from when he was first captured and this man had licked him for the first time. “The tongue that he used to lick the skin he didn’t have the permission to touch and the manhood he used to defile me.”

“Have mercy.” The man whimpered in terror.

“Mercy?” Harry echoed softly. “Mercy…you dare plead to me for mercy when you showed me none? I didn’t expect any mercy as a captive, so I didn’t abase myself by asking for that which I knew I wouldn’t receive. How dare you try and plead mercy from me after what you did to me, the disrespect that you showed to me. No, there will be no mercy in this room. Ser Ardwell, I want his tongue and his manhood, and the filthy hands that dared touch me in such a manner too, and I want them nailed to the wall of Traitor’s Walk.”

The King’s Justice, Lord Ardwell Celtigar, who was also a Ser as he was knighted, picked up a pair of pincers and got two gaolers to assist him as Lord Ardwell placed the pincers, a sword and a sharp dagger on a brazier to heat them up.
Harry forced himself to watch, he forced himself to ignore the pleads and the screams as the two gaolers held his attacker between them, one digging his fingers into his jaw to keep his mouth open as Lord Ardwell ripped his tongue out with the hot pincers.
As the man was screaming with tears streaming down his face, the two gaolers pinned him down and held his hands on a wooden block. With one swing of the hot sword, Lord Ardwell cut off both hands and the screaming picked up a higher pitch, his attacker almost keening in pain from his punishment.
Even as blood flowed onto the stone, the gaolers and the King’s Justice did not pause, the man was turned onto his back and one of the gaolers gripped his attacker’s manhood and pulled it taut. With one slice of a hot, sharp blade, Ser Ardwell castrated the man, cock and balls. All the wounds were cauterised by the hot metal, as Harry had wanted.
Harry breathed deeply, ignoring the tang of blood at the back of his nose. He also smelt piss and burning meat, but that was to be expected and he didn’t comment on it. He took various bottles from his belt as he approached the sobbing, hysterical man before he knelt on the stone floor and administered the medicines as he bound the stumps at the wrist with clean linen cloths.

“What are you doing, my son?” King Aerys asked him.

“Healing him.” Harry replied shortly.

“Pray tell, why?” Rhaegar demanded. “After what he’s done to you…”

“I know better than anyone what he did to me, Rhaegar. Do you think a simple sword will be a good enough death now? Oh no.” He replied, feeling a vicious streak flare up within him. “I will not take his tongue, manhood and hands and then give him a simple sword to die upon before he’s even had a chance to live without them. He has not suffered nearly enough yet. So I will heal him, I will keep him alive and I will have him crawling after me on his remaining stumps until I no longer find amusement from it. Then and only then, will I deem him punished enough for death. Do you disagree with my choice?”

“No.” Rhaegar said gently.

“Death by fire?” His Father asked like a small child asking for another cake.

Harry considered that for a moment, thinking that once again burning the prisoner as their Father would have done would get him back into his Father’s good graces and, his mind made up, he nodded visibly. “Yes, death by fire is suitable.” He agreed easily.

He finished fixing up the man who had abused him before he stood and soaked his hands in a bowl of water to clean them of blood.

“Shock would have set in by now, so I imagine that he will be rather useless for today at least. Take him back to his cell and give him some barley porridge and water. Tomorrow, I want a rope around his neck and he will follow me wherever I go and everyone who sees him will kick him.”

“I will see it done, my Prince.” Ser Ardwell Celtigar bowed to him and then he roughly yanked up the still crying man and dragged him back to the dungeons.

Harry sunk to one knee when his attacker was gone and he shook violently, almost on the verge of tears. He heaved and then vomited onto the stone floor.

“Are you okay?” Rhaegar asked him, crouching down beside him and laying a gentle hand on his back.

“Give me a moment.” He insisted, fighting the urge to breathe deeply to avoid the smell of the room that was making him sick, but also fighting the urge to breathe rapidly as he took small, slow, shallow breaths.

“Torture takes some getting used to.” His Father told him, not unkindly.

Harry shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m reliving what he did to me and I can’t put it from my mind.” He admitted.

Rhaegar held him then, comforting him and Harry couldn’t stop himself, he started crying.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He cried. “Please forgive me.” He begged.

“There’s nothing to forgive. There is nothing to be apologetic for. This was not your fault, you were a captive.” Rhaegar soothed gently, holding him tightly.

Harry just cried harder into Rhaegar’s neck, holding him tightly, unwilling to let go of him.

“I think you’ve had enough for one day, let me help you back to bed so that you can rest for a little longer.” Rhaegar told him softly, rubbing his back.

Harry just nodded and Rhaegar stood and picked Harry up, carrying him to his own bed chambers, where Harry had been sleeping, and he tucked Harry up in bed as Harry’s sobs trailed off to huffy breaths and sniffles. Rhaegar sat next to him and brushed his fingers through Harry’s hair gently.

“I love you so much, Harry.” He said quietly. “Nothing you could ever do would make me stop loving you. This was not your fault and we will try for another baby.”

“Really?” Harry asked tentatively, sniffing hard.

Rhaegar nodded. “Yes, we will, as soon as all of these wounds have healed and you are no longer in danger of ripping your stitches, but we will come through this stronger, my love. Together as one.”

Harry smiled happily and he pulled Rhaegar down for a hug, holding his Husband to him tightly.

“Thank you, Rhaegar.”

“It wasn’t your fault that you lost the babe, Haradarian. It was theirs, please don’t blame yourself for this, it will never happen again.”

Harry nodded and he let go of all his tension and he relaxed himself, holding Rhaegar as he slipped off to sleep for a while. He needed to rest to be able to recover and he wanted to recover now, he wanted to go back to normal and he would never let himself become a captive again. He had been beaten, starved and raped, at the complete mercy of his captors, but he could also easily have been maimed or mutilated. It could never happen again, he would never travel again without knights of renown…the household knights had been useless and many of them had fled, if they were lucky, they’d get exile and banishment as their punishment for leaving him to face those outlaws by himself, if not then they would lose their lives for leaving him to such a fate, but he would deal with their abandonment at a later date, when he was stronger and more able to deal with such things, but for now, all he wanted was to sleep safely in the arms of his beloved Husband.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

It took him a week before he could stay awake all day again without needing to take a small nap to reenergize himself during the day. It took another four days after that before he grew bored of having his mutilated pet hobble on the stumps of his arms behind him everywhere he went, begging wordlessly and crying for death as servants kicked the brute as hard as they could as they went about their daily tasks. Prince Lewyn, who was Harry’s personal guard while he was recovering, kicked the man with his boot if he so much as slowed down, or if he felt that he hadn’t been kicked in a while, or just because he was stood there and a little bored. Harry didn’t mind, this man had attacked him and likely would have done the same to Prince Lewyn’s niece, Princess Elia, as he had done to Harry if he’d had the chance. Lewyn had every right to kick the shit whenever he wanted to, it amused Harry.
But Harry was bored of having a crippled shadow, so he had told his Father that the man was to be burned. His Father had hugged him in joyous excitement and had taken the rope from Harry’s hand and tugged the filth behind him. Harry once again leant on Rhaegar for support, but he was getting better now. Some of his smaller and shallower wounds had already healed and he believed that they wouldn’t scar. Some of the larger, deeper wounds were taking a bit more time, but he kept them all very clean and re-stitched them if needed.
He had stood stoically next to Rhaegar and his Father as his attacker was dipped in pitch and then tied up and set on fire by Lord Celtigar and his gaolers, who were very used to doing as such now, with his Father’s new obsession with fire and with burning people. Harry had stood there and held his stomach, letting the fire cleanse his memories of his captivity and as the warbling screams trailed off to just the crackling of burning fat and meat, he pushed it behind him. Only one member of the Brotherhood was still alive now and he had been sent to the wall. He was five hundred leagues away from him and that suited Harry just fine, knowing that the outlaw was toiling in the icy cold of Castle Black.
Rhaegar had dropped him off at the solar in the Maidenvault before going out to the yard to practice at the rings for the upcoming tourney at Harrenhal and Harry had been forced to play social host to Lady Ashara, who had been watching over Rhaegon for him while he dealt with his captor, and the Lannister twins, who were here visiting as their Father was the Hand of the King. Lord Tywin Lannister had brought Cersei to court with him some turns ago to show her off, possibly to try and entice Rhaegar to her and into a marriage, needless to say that that plan had failed as Rhaegar only had eyes for him and their baby son Rhaegon. Jaime was still here after the battling with the Brotherhood too, he was due to go back to Casterly Rock after the tourney at Harrenhal however as there was talk that Lord Lannister was keeping them separated for some reason. It was very curious to Harry, who loved solving such mysteries, and why Lord Tywin wanted to separate, and keep separated, his twin children was a very big mystery.
The Lady Cersei Lannister was watching him in rapt fascination as he had accidentally tore the worst of his injuries, the shoulder wound, at the small social gathering in the solar of the Maidenvault where Lady Ashara and Princess Elia were staying during their visit to Kings Landing. He’d had no other choice but to re-stitch it as he’d ripped the stitches in his arm almost clean out with a convulsion that he couldn’t really control. So he sat there and calmly pulled out the remains of the old stitches and put in the new ones before crushing up salt and cloves and mixing them with vinegar and boiled water to press against the wound to clean it, gritting his teeth as he breathed through the pain.

“Does it hurt terribly?” The Lady Ashara asked him gently, laying her small hand on his knee.

“Not too terribly any more.” Harry replied as he took the linen from his arm, looked at the wound, before he dipped the cloth again and reapplied it. “It was worse when it was fresh. It was in the early stages of infection, so this mixture stung a lot more then than it does now.”

“You’re so clever.” Lady Ashara complimented him easily. “I can’t believe you earned six silver links!”

“Thank you, my Lady, it is kind of you to say as such.”

“Where is your chain, my Prince?” She asked curiously.

“In my rooms for the moment. I will start wearing it again once I am healed, for the moment it rubs against some of my injuries and causes irritation and slight pain. It’s more of an annoyance to wear it, so it’s staying off for now.”

“Where is Prince Rhaegar?” Lady Cersei asked him and Harry wanted to tip his healing mixture into her eyes.

“He is in the yard, practising for the tourney at Harrenhal.”

“I have heard rumour around the castle that he is marrying Princess Elia. Is it true?” Lady Ashara asked with a smile at Harry. “The servants are very excited about it.”

“It is not common knowledge yet, but I am not surprised that the servants have heard as such and are already gossiping about it. It is true, yes. They are marrying to strengthen the neglected relationship with Dorne and the plans have already been set into motion for the wedding and the preparations have already begun as enough food is being set aside for the feast.”

“But he doesn’t truly love her?” Cersei jumped in quickly.

“Not yet, they have only had a short amount of time to get used to one another, but Rhaegar is very fond of Elia already, love will come with time. I’m sure of it.” He lied easily. “Especially when Elia gives him children, Rhaegar wants nothing more than to be a Father now that he’s two-and-twenty.”

“Will you be at the tourney at Harrenhal, my Prince?” Jaime Lannister asked, obviously bored with the talk of weddings, love and children.

Harry inclined his head “I will be, but I’m not taking part. Rhaegon and I will be happy to cheer Rhaegar to victory, but it is very doubtful that I will be fully healed, so it will be wiser to sit this tourney out.”

“I plan to take part now that I’m a knight.”

Harry sighed internally. Jaime had been mentioning that he’d been knighted during his rescue as often as he could and Harry was getting sick of the reminder that he had been a captive, even if Jaime likely didn’t mean it that way. It was just a coincidence that he’d been knighted by Ser Arthur for handling his own against the Smiling Knight in the Kingswood and of course he was immensely proud of that achievement, but all Harry could remember when it was mentioned was the filth who had raped him, as well as being beaten, starved and locked in a small crow cage while he was bound and helpless, all of which Jaime knew as he’d been there, in that clearing, for his rescue and Jaime had seen the dire state of him, and it made Harry’s whole body go cold to remember that time of his life, it was still too recent, too raw.

“Oh, were you knighted, Jaime?” Lady Ashara asked in false surprise. “I had no idea, you should have mentioned it sooner.”

Harry coughed to hide his laugh, but then he sat smiling, trying to be gracious, but he was among his peers here and he couldn’t help it.

“Why are you here except to be a servant to Princess Elia?” Cersei snapped quickly, in defence of her twin brother.

“I am a lady-in-waiting.” Lady Ashara sniffed. “Pray tell, why are you here?”

“My Father is the Hand of the King.” Cersei said furiously.

“The King’s servant, you mean.” Lady Ashara said with another sniff, remembering Harry telling her that King Aerys had declined the offer for Cersei to be married to Rhaegar and to Harry due to him seeing Tywin Lannister as a servant.

“Your brother is a servant to the King too!” Cersei insisted.

“The Kingsguard are highly honoured and we thank them graciously for their courage and bravery.” Harry chimed in immediately. “The Kingsguard are not our servants, they are our shield. Strong, brave men who endanger their own lives for mine and my family’s. We reward them heavily for their loyalty and their protection, we owe them our very lives and I for one do not see the Kingsguard as mere servants.”

“Well said, brother.” Rhaegar said. “The Kingsguard are to be highly respected at all times for their loyal, brave service. We owe them our lives, as they shield us against all sides. I will not allow anyone to speak ill of them.” He insisted as he walked over from where he had entered the room and he took Rhaegon from his cradle and instead held him in his arms.

“Don’t you dare wake that baby up.” Harry warned him.

Rhaegar chuckled. “I’m not going to wake him up.”

“You had better not, it took me an hour to get him to sleep.”

“Really, why?”

“More teeth are coming in and he’s very, very grouchy.”

“That makes six teeth.” Rhaegar said happily.

“Seven.” Harry corrected. “Two teeth are coming in together.”

“Then it isn’t any wonder that he’s grouchy.”

Harry nodded in agreement as Rhaegar sat next to him with a sleeping, red cheeked, Rhaegon. Harry cupped a little cheek, feeling the heat of it and he sighed.

“I need to stew some ginger in hot water to give to him later. It’ll help with the inflammation.” Harry sighed, standing up. “I’m sure I have some in my rooms. Ladies, Ser Jaime, please excuse us.”

Rhaegar stood and followed him out of the solar they had been sat in, over the serpentine steps and into Maegor’s Holdfast. Harry waved to Ser Jonothor Darry who was standing guard over Maegor’s Bridge. Harry hailed a passing servant for a cup of boiling water to be brought to Rhaegar’s rooms immediately.
He made it to his own rooms as Rhaegar went further down the corridor to his rooms as Harry went hunting through his herbs and medicinal things. He finally found the root of ginger in a cloth bag and he hurried down the corridor. Rhaegar was just taking the boiling cup of water from a kitchen servant when Harry arrived. Rhaegar put the cup on his table and Harry used his silver dagger to put a few, thin slices of ginger into the cup and he left it to cool.
He went and bolted the door and he turned to Rhaegar with a smile.

“We haven’t been alone with a sleeping baby for a while.” Harry said with a smile as he took Rhaegon from Rhaegar and laid him in his main cradle that had been moved into Rhaegar’s room during his captivity. Harry had yet to move back into his own rooms after his rescue.

He threw his arms around Rhaegar’s neck and kissed him.

“Are you alright to do this?” Rhaegar asked. “Some of your wounds have yet to heal and I said that I’d wait until all of them were healed. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“It’s only really the one in my shoulder that’s causing problems still.” Harry said with a grin. “If I lie down and don’t move it much…”

Rhaegar chuckled as Harry trailed off suggestively and he swung him up by his waist and tipped him onto the bed, falling lightly on top of him. Harry laughed and reached up to pull Rhaegar’s mouth to his own so that they could kiss.

“I’ve missed you greatly, but if at any point you want to stop, just say so.” Rhaegar said seriously as he pulled back from their kiss.

“Rhaegar, stop ruining the mood.” Harry sighed. “I’m fine, but I need the love of my Husband. I need to know that you still love me, that you can still…that you can still touch me and desire me.”

Rhaegar sighed himself and laid fully on top of him and they kissed again.

“Of course I still love you. Of course I’ve wanted nothing more than to ravish you. You were gone for two and three quarter turns and once you were back you slept for another week. I missed you in those three turns.”

Harry smiled and he kissed Rhaegar hard. It felt good to touch Rhaegar like this, to be able to kiss him without worrying who was near or who was watching them. He’d been so miserable these last few weeks without the touch of his Husband. It felt so good to have that back now as Rhaegar shoved up his tunic and kissed over his belly, moving up to his chest and paying extra attention to his flat nipples.

“I’m sorry that you lost your milk.” Rhaegar told him softly.

Harry smiled bravely, but the thought was still upsetting. During his captivity, when he was being starved, his small breasts had disappeared and when he’d come home, despite getting Rhaegon to latch onto him, no milk came and it hadn’t come since. His milk had dried up and now his big boy was eating only solid foods.

“It’s alright. With any luck, and the blessing of the Seven, we’ll conceive another babe today. I couldn’t help having a miscarriage, it would not have been my choice, but I want another baby, Rhaegar. I want so many more.”

Rhaegar shivered and he nodded, pulling Harry’s tunic all the way off before pulling down his breeches, leaving him in just his linen smallclothes for all of a moment before he slipped those off of his legs too.
Harry wriggled on the bed and he sighed softly as Rhaegar’s lips touched his skin, kissing him, sucking on the small patch of skin just inside his hip that made his breath hitch. His hands were not idle either, stroking slowly up and caressing down his legs before teasing his sensitive inner thighs, making him spread his legs apart with a soft moan.
Rhaegar shifted his body to lie in between his spread legs and he moved down just slightly, so that his mouth was right between his legs and Harry let out a soft sound as Rhaegar took him into his mouth and sucked him. He loved it when Rhaegar sucked him.
He only barely had enough sense left in him to clamp his teeth into his fist. His other hand pushed and stroked through Rhaegar’s silver hair, pulling tufts of it out of his braid as his legs tangled around Rhaegar’s back, locking together and holding him in place as that wicked mouth pleasured him so wonderfully.
He was heavy breathing and moaning softly, biting into his own hand to prevent passing people from hearing his screams of pleasure. He couldn’t wait until he no longer had to stifle his sounds and he could scream as loudly as he liked and have both hands free to touch Rhaegar as he wanted.

“I can’t…” He moaned, his head twisting from side to side, gasping harshly as his legs quivered from the sensations. “Please, Rhaegar.” He begged.

Rhaegar pulled off of him with a deep inhale and he panted rapidly. “On your knees.” He told him and Harry complied, moving upright on his knees and then turning to put his back to Rhaegar when he was positioned as such. “This position will be easier on you.” His brother-husband said gently.

Harry nodded and he bit into his lip when an oiled finger stroked into his body carefully.

“Does that hurt?”

“No. It’s the extreme opposite of hurting, Rhaegar.” He said with a shiver, his body clenching tightly on that wonderful finger. He moaned softly and gasped as the special spot inside of him was touched.

As soon as Rhaegar had found that spot, he made sure that didn’t lose it again, his finger played over that spot, one stroke after another.

“Faster or slower?” Rhaegar asked him breathlessly.

“Slower.” Harry moaned and he threw his head back onto Rhaegar’s shoulder when the strokes slowed right down and evened out to a slow, rhythmic glide over that single spot that forced him closer to orgasm.

He lifted his arms up and behind him, being careful of his one shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around Rhaegar’s neck and turned his head to seek out Rhaegar’s mouth for a kiss that was readily given.

“Tap it.” Harry ordered, his legs wobbling violently as the pleasure became too much.

Rhaegar immediately stopped stroking and instead bounced his finger repeatedly against the spot and Harry made a soft, keening noise, both hands fisting into the hair at the back of Rhaegar’s head. He wriggled about, but Rhaegar’s free arm wrapped, steel tight, around his waist and hips, holding him still as the bouncing picked up pace and Harry’s breathing came quicker and shallower as he panted through the sensations taking over his body and mind.
It became too much and just as he orgasmed, Rhaegar pushed his tongue into his mouth and kissed him hard, swallowing his scream of pleasure.
Rhaegar carefully pulled away from him, gently laying Harry on the bed and letting him recover slightly from the sensations. Once Harry had gotten his breath back, Rhaegar used more oil and slipped two fingers into Harry’s body. He was too relaxed and sated to complain or fight those fingers, he only tensed up slightly at the stretch before he settled back down again with a happy moan, letting Rhaegar play with him, stretch him, pleasure him.

“How does that feel?” Rhaegar asked breathlessly.

“Don’t make me speak.” He grunted. “You know it feels wonderful.”

Rhaegar chuckled. “Just making sure.”

“Please, I won’t be able to handle three orgasms.” He complained through his rapid breaths. “I’m ready now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You never have.” Harry said as he pushed his hips back onto those fingers. “Please, I can feel another orgasm building already.”

Rhaegar chuckled deeply as he slowly slipped his fingers free of his body before he oiled himself up and positioned Harry carefully on his back, bending his knees over his elbows and shuffling forward and pressing himself in with one smooth movement. Harry gasped happily and he rolled his hips gently, taking Rhaegar all of the way in when Rhaegar stopped at half way.

“Too fast.” Rhaegar grunted as he shivered, holding himself still, clamping his hands onto Harry’s hips to prevent either of them moving.

The both of them lay still, breathing harshly and raggedly as they waited for their bodies to settle and the spike of overwhelming pleasure to ease back. Harry puckered his mouth and Rhaegar immediately dropped down to kiss him, licking at Harry’s lips until they opened and then he darted his tongue into his mouth to kiss him deeply.
While they were kissing, Rhaegar started rocking his hips ever so carefully and Harry made soft noises into their kiss as the minute push and pull of Rhaegar in his body had his gut clenching with pleasure and he moaned into their kiss.
He twisted his head away and he pushed his fingers through Rhaegar’s silver hair.

“Please.” He begged. “I’m ready. You’re not going to hurt me. I’m not going to break, please. This slow, careful torture is driving me out of my mind.”

Rhaegar grinned at him and took him at his word, pulling out further, until only the tip of him was left inside his body, before pushing forward again until he was fully inside. It drove the breath from Harry’s lungs and he gasped and then moaned in quick succession, clenching his fingers tight in that perfect, silver hair and tugging.

“Rhaegar!” He gasped, slipping his one leg free from his brother’s elbow and hooking it over his thigh instead, resting his foot on a calf. The new position let Rhaegar push even deeper into him and he rubbed over that already sensitised special spot and Harry got louder and more active, rolling his hips up as Rhaegar pushed into him and panted heavily into their wet, furious kisses.

Rhaegar lost himself first, with one final push, he stilled at the deepest part he could reach into Harry’s body and the muscles in his legs tensed all at once and the joints of his body locked as he threw his head back with his orgasm.
Harry mewled and keened as he felt a hot wetness inside him as he tried to urge Rhaegar to keep moving as he rocked his own hips, but Rhaegar’s body was like stone, heavy and immovable, he had to wait out his brother’s orgasm before he got his own, but it was worth it when Rhaegar dropped down to the side of him and used his hand to tug him to completion.
They lay quietly together, breathing heavily, their bodies slicked with the sweat of their exertion, but the both of them were so happy, were so sated and pleased as they lay curled up together, just enjoying the quiet as their bond resettled and they got used to the physical connection once more.
Harry sighed and turned, curling up in Rhaegar’s arms with a yawn, snuggling his face into Rhaegar’s body.

“Call me in an hour.” He said tiredly.

“Rhaegon will be awake before then.”

Harry hummed. “Let him be our wakeup call then, we can hardly ignore such a loud, persistent cry. I’ll give him the ginger water then.”

Rhaegar laughed softly. “No, it’s not very likely that we won’t hear him. Just rest a little, everything’s going to be fine.”

“Better than fine.” Harry insisted sleepily before he stayed quiet and drifted into a light doze.

Everything would be fine now, no one could harm him in such a manner again, he wouldn’t allow it. He had his Husband back with him, they were being physical once more after what had happened to him and he still had his baby son, Rhaegon. He had lost a babe at two turns, but with any luck, and the blessing of the gods both old and new, he would be pregnant again now. He could get over what had happened to him, with Rhaegar’s help. They had lost a babe, but their Rhaegon was completely fine and safe and they would carry on as they had been and they would have more babes in the future, even if he had to pray to the Seven and to the old gods day and night until he fell pregnant again, he would, but he would be absolutely fine given some more time to recover, absolutely fine as his brother-husband pulled him in closer to his body and he was able to snuggle in close to Rhaegar’s chest to take a small nap.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Harrenhal was immense. Its unbeaten, record title of the largest castle in the Seven Kingdoms did not prepare one for the sheer, dizzying size of the place. It was a black, hideous ruin, the stone melted in places by dragonfire during Aegon’s Conquering after King Harren Hoare, known as Harren the Black, refused to yield to Aegon.
Harry looked at the five towers and picked out the tallest tower, Kingspyre. The tower where his ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, had roasted Harren and his sons alive with Balerion the Black Dread three centuries before. He still remembered his Father telling him that story as a very young boy sat on his knee.

‘Harren said to Aegon, what is outside my walls is of no concern to me. Those walls are strong and thick. So Aegon replied to him, but they are not so high as to keep out a dragon for dragons fly. But Harren would not have it that his monumental castle was so defenceless, was such a waste when faced with Balerion the Black Dread. His last words to Aegon were his folly, he told him that stone does not burn. Aegon replied to him simply, Haradarian my son, he said, when the sun sets, your line shall end. And so it did. Aegon the conqueror, upon Balerion the Black Dread, roasted Harren and his sons alive in the tallest tower of his castle and thus ended house Hoare.’

Harry shivered as he remembered the story and he gave a prayer to the Mother and to the Father to protect him and his family while they were here. Harrenhal was cursed and bad things happened to those who stayed here.

“Not superstitious are you, brother?” Rhaegar smiled.

“Not exactly, Rhaegar. But this is a cursed place. A stable boy was telling me that he once heard King Harren screaming and shouting in that tower there, the one they call the Wailing Tower. They say that Harren and his sons prowl the corridors at night.”

“It’s all lies and stories, my Prince.” Ser Oswell told him kindly. “I was born here and I’ve lived here, I have not once heard any wailing or seen any shades and in my youth I actually went looking for them…there is nought in those towers but ruins, cobwebs and bats.”

Harry took a deep, calming breath and he nodded. “The godswood was unaffected?”

Ser Oswell nodded. “The Sept was ruined, but the godswood remains untouched.”

“I should like to visit it before I even sit down at any table in this castle.”

“You are afraid.” Rhaegar said in surprise.

“Cautious.” Harry replied bitingly as he hefted up his son, who was now eleven turns old and very big and very heavy. In just three weeks he would be celebrating his very first name day. “I have more than myself to think of if this place really is cursed and I will not take the risk. I will ask for the protection of the old gods before I break any bread or take any salt.”

“I will come with you.” Rhaegar said. “Ser, your services will not be required.”

“My Prince, I must insist.” Ser Oswell replied. “Harrenhal is a big place to get lost in and with all the people here for the tourney, I cannot risk the three of you going off with no protection.”

“Thank you, Ser.” Harry nodded graciously and Rhaegar did the same.

They were led through the, not quite as ruined, grounds of Harrenhal and around to the back of the castle, where the twenty acre godswood resided, untouched and wild.
It was quite the trek to reach the white, weirwood heart tree and it was slashed to pieces, marked by the sword swings of two warring Targaryens in 130AC during the Dance of Dragons, its carved face was twisted and terrible to look upon, but Harry did so without fear or flinching. The old gods had blessed his and Rhaegar’s marriage and they had gotten Rhaegon and a dragon egg from their union. He breathed deeply and he sunk to his knees before the heart tree and he prayed for acceptance and protection for himself and his loved ones while he was here at Harrenhal. He begged the gods to continue to look upon him favourably while he was here and to allow no harm to come to them. He stayed on his knees, Rhaegon in his arms, for long minutes to pay his respect to the old gods.
He stood and he sighed, clutching his quiet babe close to his chest. He turned back and he nodded to Ser Oswell and to Rhaegar and he was led back through the godswood as his breathing came quicker and harder. The power of this godswood was as immense as the castle and the undisturbed silence of the place was stifling. The air was thick and hard to breathe and the tingling in his fingers came on much stronger, much quicker than normal and he gasped quietly, struggling to suck in deep breaths as the innate magic of this godswood affected him, as all godswoods did. The four of them made it out of the twenty acre godswood and Harry immediately took in a great gasp of air, like a drowning man whose head had broken the surface of the water just before his lungs had shrivelled and he had died. All of the symptoms were suddenly just gone, except for his rapid breathing, but he came back into himself easily, clutching Rhaegon tightly as they were led back through the castle grounds, which didn’t seem quite so dark or shadowy any longer…was that the gods’ doing? Or was it merely his mind playing tricks upon him?
They made it to the opening feast and Harry sat at the top table with Rhaegar and Lord Whent, his four sons and young daughter for whom the tourney had been announced, the same daughter who was the reigning Queen of Love and Beauty. His Lady Wife, Shella, was sat beside her husband and then there were several noble families also at the top table and of course King Aerys. Their Father had suddenly and inexplicitly decided to come to the tourney after all. For fear of why that was, Rhaegar had called off the great council meeting for this year. It was unlikely that their Father knew of what the tourney of Harrenhal was covering, but with him in attendance, it was now too dangerous to continue with it, just in case. Rhaegar was furious at the sudden change of mind, but he said nothing, so that he wouldn’t give himself or his plans away.
Rhaegon fell onto the food happily, gnawing on bread and soft meats, chomping on cut vegetables and generally making a huge mess of himself and the table while Harry tried to ignore him on his lap as he ate his own food.

“Not in your hair, Rhaegon!” Harry sighed as his son decided to squeeze a fish between his fingers and then tug on his own hair.

Harry eased the fingers away and got a filthy hand shoved into his own face for it before Rhaegon decided to chew on more bread.
He wiped his face with a linen cloth and tried to coax his son into showing some table manners, but as Lady Shella Whent, Lord Walter Whent’s Wife, chuckled at him, he knew that he was failing badly.

“I do apologise.” He said politely. “This is most undignified, but he had no appetite on the road, so I am loathe to stop him now that he is finally eating something.”

“He is a big, hearty boy.” Lord Whent complimented easily with a wave of his hand. “Let him eat his fill, as all good men must.”

Harry regretted following that advice as Rhaegon knelt on his lap and reached over to Rhaegar’s plate to take his mashed turnips.

“Sorry, Rhaegar.” Harry sighed as he tried to prevent Rhaegon from taking the food and failing as Rhaegon used his other hand to pick up the mashed vegetable, which he then sucked off of his hand happily.

“It’s fine, Haradarian.” Rhaegar chuckled. “He’s growing, as Lord Whent has said. He needs to eat his fill.”

“If he eats any more then I’m not sure the chair will hold us both up.” Harry japed.

“How much have you eaten?” Rhaegar questioned.

Harry laughed. “The bits and pieces that Rhaegon has deigned to leave for me.”

“Pass him here.” Rhaegar did not wait for an answer, but took his son from him and sat him in his own lap. This pleased Rhaegon as he could reach a different part of the table and he started taking from their Father’s part, even standing up to reach what he wanted.

“Sorry, Father.” Harry apologised, but his Father was proud of his growing grandson and waved him away.

He was showing more affection to him and to Rhaegon since his captivity, and the ensuing torture and burning of the man who had violated him, even going so far as to hand Rhaegon things that he couldn’t reach.

“Fish.” Rhaegon demanded, reaching out his clasping hands for the baked fish between his Grandfather and Lord Whent.

King Aerys got a portion of the fish and placed it onto Rhaegar’s plate for Rhaegon to smash up with his hands.

“For the sake of the Seven.” Harry sighed, gripping Rhaegon’s hands and putting a fork into one of them. “You know how to use a fork, Rhaegon.”

“No.” Rhaegon insisted, throwing the fork down the table and using his hands.

Harry rubbed his tired eyes and took Rhaegon back onto his own lap and controlled his son, not letting him use his hands to eat and continuously offering him a fork until, with a cry of frustration, Rhaegon took the fork and used it. Harry patted his head and tried to eat a bit more himself, but he had had no appetite for the last few days either.
Rhaegon had soon eaten as much as he wanted and he curled up on Harry, his head popped over his shoulder and he put his filthy face in Harry’s neck as Harry rubbed his back gently.
He stayed as long as he was able, but the mummers’ shows were one after another and after the mummers, a troupe of dwarves started running around and acting silly, much to his Father’s utter delight. Anything that mocked Tywin Lannister these days amused him greatly and he said loudly that he had found a job for Lannister’s bane, to much sycophantic laughter from those who had heard him. The boy would only be eight years old and he was mocked from one end of the Seven Kingdoms to the other. Harry felt badly for the boy who he still had yet to meet. Tywin Lannister refused to take the boy anywhere and he stayed in Casterly Rock, hidden away like a secret mistress.
After the dwarves came singers and musicians and Harry almost planted his face into the table when he accidentally nodded off.

“Are you okay?” Rhaegar asked worriedly as he held him around the chest. No less than three Kingsguard members had moved as he’d fallen forward a little and he now had the attention of all six members of the Kingsguard who had travelled here with them.

“I’m alright, but I think the journey here took it out of me. I need to lie down.” He said. “I feel a little faint and dizzy. Please excuse me.”

Harry stood during the applause for one singer and he left with Ser Oswell and Prince Lewyn, who had to support him upright as he was very wobbly on his feet. He was led to a very spacious room that held a huge bed bundled with blankets and furs and a solid cradle for Rhaegon, also bedecked with blankets and furs.

“Thank you, Ser.” He said tiredly, even as he listed to the side.

Prince Lewyn caught him again and with a sigh, he took Rhaegon from him and shimmied Harry to the bed and got him sitting down before he tucked up the youngest Prince in the cradle.

“I’ve got him from here, brother. You might be needed to show more guests around this monstrosity. I will not be leaving this room.”

Ser Oswell inclined his head and left the large bedroom and then Prince Lewyn rounded on him.

“What is wrong?” He demanded as soon as the heavy wooden door had been closed after Ser Oswell’s departure.

Harry shook his head. “I have a feeling that I’m pregnant, Ser.” He said as he lay back on the soft downy feather bed and rested. “I feel awful.”

“You were bad on the road, Rhaegar was telling everyone that it was because Rhaegon was off of his food and you were worried, but that wasn’t it, was it? Or not all of it.”

Harry shook his head. “I was feeling very sick on the road, but I was also worried because Rhaegon wouldn’t touch anything, so I wasn’t sleeping properly either.”

“What makes you think you’re pregnant?”

“I suspected that I was before we left, but this only confirms it. I’m about two turns pregnant.”

“You knew at a turn pregnant with…” Prince Lewyn cut himself off quickly.

Harry smiled bitterly. “With the baby that I lost in captivity. Yes, I did. I knew after only a few weeks that I was pregnant, but I ignored all the signs this time because I’ve been so busy with Rhaegon. I put it off and put it off, but it won’t be pushed to the side any longer. I’m pregnant and I have to be about two turns, because that was the last time that I laid with Rhaegar. It’s difficult to find the time or the privacy to lay with him in Kings Landing.”

“I don’t need the details.” Prince Lewyn said quickly. “We’ll have to step up your protection again. Especially here at the tourney.”

Harry nodded. “If anyone asks, I told you to be more alert around Rhaegon. With him moving himself more now, he needs it.”

Harry yawned and pulled the sheets over himself. Nothing had terrified him, nor filled him with such pride, more than when Rhaegon had first pulled himself to his feet and stood up unaided a turn ago. Since then, his son had been unstoppable and he had taken his first steps and then within a week, he was running around all over the place.
He was climbing, digging through cupboards and drawers, and that was not mentioning the accidents and injuries he was getting from various trips or falls. The Kingsguard were frantic around the infant and none of them liked getting the duty of protecting Prince Rhaegon, because they had the impossible task of trying to prevent falls and injuries and none of them liked explaining to him where the newest bump, bruise or cut had come from, even though he didn’t blame them in the slightest for such minor injuries.

“Get some rest, I will stand guard over you both, my Prince.” Prince Lewyn said softly.

Harry nodded and he fell asleep easily and without worry. He trusted Prince Lewyn with his life, with the lives of his children. He was safe here, in such capable hands.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Rhaegar was, of course, thrilled by the news that Harry was expecting another baby when Harry told him the very next morning and it buoyed his whole mood. He was strutting around Harrenhal and he was smiling at everyone. He was not his usual morose, melancholic self with the news of his husband’s new pregnancy.
At least he wasn’t his usual morose self until Ser Jaime Lannister bent the knee to their Father and accepted the empty Kingsguard position that had been created with the peaceful death of Ser Harlan Grandison some weeks previous.

“He is but a boy!” Rhaegar raged. “He is younger than you are!”

“I know.” Harry said yet again, bored of repeating himself, but understanding that Rhaegar needed to vent his frustrations and emotions onto someone.

“What is that man even thinking?!”

“He’s likely only doing it to piss on Tywin Lannister by taking his perfect son, his Heir, from him.” Harry said offhandedly as he tried to get Rhaegon to eat some stew. “Giving the open Kingsguard position to Jaime leaves only Tywin’s dwarf son, Tyrion, to inherit Casterly Rock.”

“You’re right.” Rhaegar said softly as he let that sink in for a moment. “I bet that that is the only reason he’s done this! An honourable, noble position, given away for a mere feud! To a fifteen year old boy who is not yet a man and, he is an able knight I grant you, but he is still just a boy and not a very mature or responsible one at that!”

Harry sighed. “There is nothing that we can do, Jaime Lannister is now a knight of the Kingsguard and if you feel aggrieved, think of the other white swords, how must they be feeling to lose Ser Harlan and to gain a mere boy that they must needs babysit. At least Father sent him back home to guard Mother and Viserys.”

“That’ll be all he’s fit for. What can he teach us? We are his elders.”

“Us? Nothing.” Harry replied. “But he has proven his worth in the fight against the Kingswood Brotherhood and he is no craven. It is useless to rant about such things, Rhaegar, what’s done is done and cannot be undone. The Kingsguard serve for life and Lannister is like to outlive us if we all die at a ripe old age in the order of our birth.”

Rhaegar sat down beside him and pulled him in close, kissing him soundly.

“That position should have gone to someone much more deserving, but I see your point. It is already done now.” He sighed and stroked Rhaegon’s cheek.

“Da.” The little boy cooed.

Rhaegar kissed him and sat back. “I need wine.”

“Lord Whent sent up some Dornish red wines when I asked to take my afternoon meal here.”

Harry laid back on the seat with Rhaegon and he lifted his tunic to expose his slightly curved belly. He really should have noticed, but he hadn’t cared about the little belly that he was growing after his starvation during his captivity. He had been so sick that morning that he hadn’t felt well enough to get up out of bed until half an hour ago. He had missed the first day of the jousting and so had Rhaegar, who had stayed with him.

“Ma. Fish.”

“You’ve had enough fish.” Harry told him with an adoring smile, but he contradicted himself by reaching forward and picking up a small chunk of fish and popping it into Rhaegon’s open, pleading mouth.

Rhaegar sat back down with a goblet of wine and he sighed, relaxing himself as he stroked Rhaegon’s back as their son asked for more food.

“Berry!”

Harry picked up the few berries that were left and he let Rhaegon pick which ones he wanted to eat as he lay back and rubbed his churning belly.

“Oh, I feel unwell.” He complained with a groan.

“You seem to be much worse this time around.” Rhaegar said worriedly.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. Every pregnancy is different. I had Mother’s sickness with Rhaegon, I didn’t really have it with our lost one, but this one is much worse. I suppose it was too much to ask to have another pregnancy with no sickness.” He smiled, but it was shallow. He didn’t like thinking or speaking of his lost little one.

Rhaegar kissed him and then turned to Rhaegon, who was playing with the fine glass bowl his berries had been in.

“Don’t you break that.” Rhaegar said seriously.

“Da, no.” Rhaegon said.

“No. No breaking the bowl.” He repeated sternly.

Rhaegon looked at the bowl in his hands and then he handed it to his Father and Harry smiled adoringly. Rhaegar put the bowl back on the table and he hefted their son onto his lap, wrapping his arms around him and kissing him.
Rhaegon screeched in delight and he kicked and wriggled. Harry laughed at them both and rubbed his belly.

“I need a walk, are you going to come or stay here with Rhaegon?” Harry asked.

“Will you be okay?” Rhaegar asked. “I’m not comfortable with you going anywhere alone and all of the Kingsguard are in the Hall of the Hundred Hearths with Father.”

Harry snorted. “It only has thirty-five, I counted them.”

Rhaegar laughed. “I did too, likely everyone who visits counts them, but still, thirty-five hearths is immense.”

“It feels like the belly of a dragon when they’re all lit.” Harry complained.

Rhaegar laughed loudly and Rhaegon looked at him, before joining in loudly. Harry couldn’t help but laugh and he shook his head. He stood up and kissed Rhaegar and then pulled Rhaegon over so that he could kiss his chubby cheek.

“I won’t be long. I know where these rooms are now.” He insisted.

“Take a dagger.” Rhaegar told him seriously.

Harry patted his hip to show Rhaegar that he was already wearing the Valyrian steel dagger that Rhaegar had given him for his sixteenth name day before he left their rooms and he took a breath. He needed some air and he wanted some peace, the only place that he was going to get that was the godswood that no one else ever visited.
He remembered where it was, at twenty acres it was impossible to miss really, and he made it there with no incident. He sat down under the weirwood heart tree and he soaked in the calm, the peace, the magic in the very air. Every godswood felt magical to him and if he sat here for long enough, his fingers would start to tingle, his breath would come faster and it would be harder to breathe as the pressure built up in his chest. He’d only told Rhaegar of this phenomena, but his brother, no matter how long he sat with him, did not feel the same sensations.
Harry sat in the godswood of Harrenhal for hours, panting heavily from the pressure, his fingers tingling so much that he was digging them into the soft earth to control the tremble and his whole body was going hot. Hot like he was on fire. He was determined to sit through this group of sensations, to see what came of it, if anything, as he reacted so much more strongly in this godswood than any other he’d been in. This was the longest that he’d ever sat undisturbed in a godswood before, his overnight stays back at Kings Landing didn’t count as he’d always had a member of the Kingsguard with him all night, distracting him, not to mention that the sensations were stronger now that he was an adult, and the pressure, the sensations, were growing higher and higher, his gut clenched harder and he felt like he couldn’t breathe as he laboured to suck in a single breath and from one moment to the next, the pressure burst suddenly and he screamed silently, too breathless, too overwhelmed by the explosion of sensations to make a single sound and very soon, all the pressure was gone, drained out of him. The hot feeling, the tingling at his fingertips was gone and so too was the breathless feeling. All of it was gone, but when he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by flowers and blooms that had not been there a moment before. Small saplings had had a hundred years of growth in a single moment, now thick, tall and strong, wilting flowers were vibrant and in the peak of their bloom again and the earth he had dug his fingers into was suddenly alive with insects, worms, moss and fungi.
He laughed breathlessly and he looked at his hands with wonder. Was this what the prophecy had been referring to? Was he the Prince who was promised for this reason? This pressure? This wondrous event that had caused this godswood to bloom into sudden life in such a way?
He needed to tell Rhaegar about this, but first, he needed to know how far the explosion of pressure had gone. He stood and he walked around the godswood, looking for the new blooms, all the wilted flowers that had come back to life, the small saplings that were now huge, ancient trees and everywhere he looked in the godswood his favourite flower, red dragon’s breath, that hadn’t been growing in this godswood before today, was in full bloom and covered everything in sight. It had to be an omen from the gods, the dragons were growing stronger.
He reached a section of the godswood where a clear line showed…behind him was a beautiful, blooming garden of flowers and trees, in front was a dim, dark mass of wilting flowers, small saplings struggling to grow and earth that was still and dark with no bugs or life moving over it. It was a stunning visual representation of what he had done…the explosion of pressure had travelled over an acre, perhaps an acre and a half, from the heart tree he had been sat under. He needed to bring Rhaegar here to see it. It was wondrous. It made him think though, as his mind travelled, as it so often did, to his dragon eggs, if he could do this to a godswood, then what else could he do and would it help his unhatched children at all?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

Barristan was drawn into a complete, castle wide search of the immense Harrenhal when Prince Rhaegar came down into the Hall of a Hundred Hearths with Prince Rhaegon for supper. He looked around and he actually bit his lip and it was then that Barristan knew that something was very wrong, before Prince Rhaegar even opened his mouth. Prince Rhaegar never showed such visible signs of nervousness in such a public place.

“Has anyone seen Haradarian?” He asked concernedly.

“He was in his room, my Prince.” Prince Lewyn told him.

Rhaegar shook his head. “I was with him all morning, at midday he told me that he was going for a short walk. He didn’t come back.”

“Find him.” King Aerys commanded them and the Kingsguard were gone immediately, every single one of them, looking all over the monumental castle that was Harrenhal for one small, missing man.

They met up in the main courtyard an hour later and each one shook their heads.

“He’s not in Kingspyre or Widow’s Tower.” Ser Oswell panted.

“Nor the Wailing Tower.”

“He’s not in the Tower of Dread.”

“He’s not in the Tower of Ghosts or the ruined sept.”

“He’s not back in his rooms and I’ve checked the Hall of a Hundred Hearths.” Barristan said.

“Where haven’t we looked?” The Lord Commander, Gerold Hightower, asked Ser Oswell.

Barristan thought hard and he made an exclamation as a sudden thought came to him.

“Has anyone checked the godswood?” He asked. “Prince Haradarian’s favourite place has always been a godswood.”

“Seven hells, of course that’s where he’ll be!” Ser Arthur hissed and he stomped off towards the godswood. “I’ll bet he’s fast asleep under the heart tree!”

Barristan followed with his five other sworn brothers and they made it to the dark, eerily silent godswood. They had to follow Ser Oswell from there, as this massive, untouched godswood was twenty acres and it was very easy to get lost in it. They’d been walking for near ten minutes when they came to a stop when Ser Oswell stopped suddenly.

“It’s changed.” Ser Oswell said confusedly.

“Changed how?” Gerold Hightower asked.

“It’s different. I came here yesterday and somehow, overnight, it’s changed. There are trees here that were not here yesterday, all of these flowers were wilting yesterday and Dragon’s breath has never grown here, look. It’s everywhere and in full bloom.”

“Dragon’s breath is Haradarian’s favourite flower.” Barristan said as he looked at the bright red flowers that were everywhere, covering everything.

He looked behind him to the dark, drab, half dead forest they had been walking through, then turned back to face forwards and it was brighter, more alive and it was almost a visible line between the two halves of the godswood.

“I think I’m lost.” Ser Oswell said as he turned around, looking in every direction. “None of this is familiar to me anymore. I don’t know what’s happened, what magic is this?”

“Prince Haradarian?” Prince Lewyn called out loudly, his voice echoing strangely through the eerily silent trees.

“Yes?” Came a voice from a little way off.

“Oh, thank the gods.” Ser Gerold sighed.

Barristan strode off towards the voice and he came out of the trees to a small clearing which held the vicious looking weirwood heart tree, and there, lying on his back in the crawling earth of the clearing, was Prince Haradarian. He was spread eagled, his arms and legs spread to their fullest extent, but he was smiling that amazingly bright smile that had been absent in recent years. He was beaming almost from ear to ear, looking up at them with his eyes laughing at them.
He rolled over onto his belly, right there in the dirt and he laughed at their faces.

“To what do I owe the visit of all six of you?” He asked innocently.

“It is time to sup.” Ser Gerold told the seventeen year old. “Your brother, Prince Rhaegar, was very worried.”

“It’s that late?” Haradarian asked in surprise. “I said that I was only going for a short walk, he must be frantic. I do apologise, I really did lose track of the time, the trees obscure the sky and I couldn’t see the sun to determine what time it was.”

“Come along, my Prince.” Ser Arthur said, stepping forward and holding out his hands.

Prince Haradarian was carefully hauled to his feet and he brushed himself off from the soft, dry soil and the bugs that were clinging to his clothing and hair. He all but beamed at them, like the small, sweet boy that he had once been, before the Defiance of Duskendale. Not one of them mentioned his almost boyish mood or the changes to the godswood, it wasn’t their place to question their Prince of such things.

“Are you feeling okay?” Ser Jonothor asked instead.

“I feel wonderful. I needed this moment of peace and quiet. I feel rejuvenated and energised. The small nap helped too.”

“Please tell me that you didn’t fall asleep here, alone and with no protection.”

“Um…oops.” Harry looked contrite for all of a moment, before he laughed, almost his old laughing giggle from when he was a small boy and it lightened Barristan’s heart to hear it. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he escorted the seventeen year old back to the Hall of a Hundred Hearths.

“You must be more careful!” Ser Arthur chastised the Prince and Haradarian nodded.

“Of course, Ser. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. It was just so peaceful and it reminded me of Kings Landing, sleeping under the stars while Rhaegar was away at the ruins of Summerhall. I do have my dagger on me though, I wasn’t entirely unprotected.”

Haradarian took a deep breath and he giggled again and spun around on the spot.

“Have you been drinking?” Ser Oswell asked. “Those Dornish reds are particularly strong.”

“No, I haven’t touched a drop of it. Rhaegar was the one drinking those red wines. Wine gives me a headache and with Rhaegon that’s the last thing that you want. So it’s not always the best idea to drink anything.”

They made it back to the Hall of a Hundred Hearths and Barristan saw Rhaegar visibly deflate in relief. Haradarian sat beside his brother and picked up his son and snuggled him tightly, kissing all over his chubby face, making the boy screech and giggle in laughter.
Barristan smiled as he took up his position behind the top table and the four members of the royal family under his care. His heart had sunk when he’d thought that the young Prince was lost and finding him was such a relief. He loved the young Prince, so much, but with how the two oldest Princes were acting with one another, and with the youngest Prince, Rhaegon, too, he knew that something was going on. He merely didn’t know what it was just yet.

“Da!” Little Rhaegon called out, but instead of reaching for Haradarian, he instead showed the mashed food in his hand to Rhaegar.

Something was definitely going on with his two favourite Princes and it involved the young Prince Rhaegon as well. He’d had the feeling that they were lying, or hiding something at least, for a long while now, but by the Seven, he just couldn’t figure out what it was or reason out what it could possibly be about or why they would do as such. He would hope that they knew that they could come to him if they needed to. He wanted them to know that he loved them more than anyone else in this world, that they could trust him. He wanted them to come to him, but he had had the feeling that they were hiding something, or doing something that they shouldn’t be, for a few years now, and they hadn’t approached him, or to his knowledge, anyone else either.
He hoped that whatever they were doing wasn’t dangerous, as he had a horrible feeling that it was something to do with the fabled hoard of dragon eggs on Dragonstone. They sailed to Dragonstone often, they were on that little island for years at a time, Rhaegar more often than Haradarian, but recently, Haradarian had spent two years on the small island too, despite the trip to Volantis and his distraction with his late wife and son.
But the two had been researching dragon eggs for years, he knew that much, and for ways to hatch them, and if they could be believed, then they were practicing ways in which to hatch dragon eggs. Most of the untimely Targaryen deaths over the decades had been from fire, or the direct result of some other folly, while trying to hatch dragon eggs and he couldn’t see these two fine, intelligent young men go the same way as their ancestors who had died trying to hatch dragon eggs.
He wished that they would tell him what they were up to, even if he was just there to guard them or look out for other dangers while they tried their various ideas on how to hatch dragon eggs. He wanted to protect them and keep them safe, always, but he couldn’t do as such if they didn’t trust him or talk to him. He sighed and prayed to the Seven to keep them safe and he prayed that whatever they were doing, it didn’t lead to their injury or death.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

The next morning, Harry was sat in the stands with Rhaegon stood in front of him, safely between his legs, holding onto the rail with his chubby hands and gnawing on it with his new teeth as they watched Rhaegar mount up on his horse.

“Da!” Rhaegon called out, reaching out for Rhaegar.

“Why does he call Rhaegar Father?” King Aerys demanded as he heard Rhaegon call out.

“I was a captive for a full turn, Father and I was unconscious for a further week after. I was away from him for a long time and Mother told me that Rhaegar cared for his every need daily during that time. He’s going to be a little confused for a time. I don’t mind him calling Rhaegar ‘Da’ because actually, Rhaegar is acting like his Father. Since I lost Malana, I became Mother and Father to him, but Rhaegar has been there for the both of us every single day, of course that’s going to confuse Rhaegon. He’s called the both of us ‘Da’, he’s called the both of us ‘Ma’ and he even called Viserys ‘Da’ the day that we left Kings Landing. I will correct him when I believe that he’s old enough to genuinely understand what he’s saying, until then, he can call me, or anyone else, what he likes.”

Harry hefted his heavy son up, so that his head popped over the railing and he screeched happily, lifting a hand to wave at Rhaegar, who laughed and waved back. Gods how Harry loved him, the both of them, he thought as he kissed the back of Rhaegon’s head. His son would need a haircut soon, his hair was as wild and untameable as his own and it needed to be kept short to have any hope of looking neat.
Harry cheered happily for Rhaegar as he jousted like a champion. He’d been so upset that he’d missed the tourney at Storm’s End because he loved watching Rhaegar joust and he loved cheering him on, but he’d been in the Citadel at the time, in self forced exile. Though Rhaegar had given him a blow by blow account of every joust he’d participated in over several ravens, it just wasn’t the same as watching and cheering him on in person.
A mystery knight entered the lists that day, such a short knight that Harry wondered if it was but a child, such as Ser Barristan Selmy, who had been so bold that he had entered the jousting as a mere boy of ten and Prince Duncan, who had given him the epithet ‘the Bold’ had jousted with him when no one else would. Ser Barristan had unhorsed Prince Duncan, and the Prince’s namesake, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Ser Duncan the Tall, six years later and won his knighthood from King Aegon the fifth himself. But this knight was clad in such ill-fitting armour that Harry was almost sure that it was a jape, but the knight, with a weirwood heart tree upon their shield, challenged three champions and won every joust. The Knight of the Smiling Tree did not even try to challenge Ser Oswell Whent nor Rhaegar.
At supper that night, and afterwards too, Rhaegar was so intrigued by the mystery knight that it was all he could talk about. Harry indulged him with a smile as they both bathed Rhaegon, and themselves, in a huge stone bath in Harrenhal’s bathhouse, a massive, low-ceilinged room filled with stone tubs that could each hold six or seven people in a likeness of the bathhouses of the free cities in Essos.
They were both naked in the same bath with Rhaegon, but they couldn’t do anything about their desires as they were being watched over by Ser Barristan and the Lord Commander, Ser Gerold, who were stood, on guard, to either side of the single doorway that led into the room.

“Who do you think it could be?” Rhaegar asked him like an excited child and Harry smiled indulgently at him.

“From the size alone, I would suggest a squire boy, someone not yet a man, they were very short. The real question, however, is whose squire is that good at jousting…enough to knock off three noblemen who had earned their champion’s position from the four Whent brothers, but not skilled enough, or not confident enough, to take on Ser Oswell or yourself.”

“Their gait was very strange.” Rhaegar said quickly, wanting to share his thoughts with him. “If I had to put money on it, I would have said a woman.”

“Really?” Harry asked in surprise, even as he mentally reviewed the instances where he’d seen the mystery knight walking. “That changes things then. Not a squire, not a commoner either. She’d be high born to know how to ride that well and to have even a chance at jousting with rings.”

“If you had to put money on it?” Rhaegar asked as he took a bar of soap to Rhaegon’s back, much to their son’s delight as his Father soaped him up with his large hands.

Harry thought about it and he chuckled. “Ashara Dayne. If one woman is stubborn enough to unhorse three men, it’s her and she knows how to joust and she knows archery too.”

“It sounds like you have a little crush on our visiting Lady Dayne.” Rhaegar teased.

Harry forced himself to blush by thinking of the most embarrassing thing that he could imagine and he ducked his head.

Rhaegar laughed loudly. “Oh gods, you do have a crush on her!”

“Shut up.” Harry snapped, splashing Rhaegar with water.

“No, I think it’s wonderful that you have a crush, you should approach her, maybe offer to dance with her too.”

“I don’t need courting advice from you.” Harry forced out through gritted teeth. “How many Ladies have you courted in your life? By my count it’s none and I had to broker for your marriage to Princess Elia. So you’ll excuse me if I don’t take your advice.”

“Is it because she looks like Malana?” Rhaegar asked him softly, but still loudly enough for their guards to hear, otherwise there would have been no point to their ‘private’ conversation.

Harry made a show of swallowing and pulling Rhaegon into him close.

“I thought she was Malana when I first saw her.” He said quietly. “I almost ran up to her and embraced her and for the first day, I had to keep catching myself as I kept calling her Malana. I’ve never felt so confused in my entire life, Rhaegar. It was so painful to see her, to speak to her at first, but I do like Lady Ashara for who she is, she’s nothing like Malana in personality, so now that I know her, I can see the differences between the two of them, but they look so similar.”

“It’s alright. I think the Lady Ashara is a beautiful, wonderful woman. She’s kind, she loves Rhaegon and if the little glances she’s been giving you are any indication, then I think she may feel the same way.”

“Do you think it’s too soon? I don’t want to dishonour either Ladies.”

“Well, how do you feel, Haradarian? If you feel like it’s time, then it’s time. Rhaegon will be celebrating his first name day in a few short weeks, I would think that that would be plenty of time, brother. Malana would have wanted you and her son to be happy.”

Harry nodded. “I’ll speak to her a little more and see if she’s really as nice as she appears on the surface, but her kindness to Rhaegon is what drew my attention after her appearance. She adores him and frankly, he adores Lady Ashara and Princess Elia too.”

Harry kissed Rhaegon’s little mouth and his small son screeched and squeezed Harry’s face as he kissed back. It made Harry laugh.

“Is he all clean? If I stay in this water anymore then I’m like to freeze to death.” Rhaegar complained, making a show of shivering.

“Agreed. He’s clean.” Harry insisted and he stood up, stepping out of the massive bath onto the small step ladder below, snatching up a linen cloth to wrap around himself before he got Rhaegon wrapped up and snuggled in his own clean cloth.

Rhaegar was dried and dressed within minutes as Harry struggled with a squirming Rhaegon, who didn’t want to get dressed, and he walked over to Harry and held out his arms.

“Give him to me.”

“No! You are not taking my son and forcing him to listen to your harp playing.” Harry laughed. “He’ll turn out as morose and miserable as you otherwise.”

Rhaegar gave him a playful shove. “You’re too happy and bright to allow a bit of moroseness to creep in to his personality. He’s so much like you it’s as if I’m seeing you as a babe all over again. Except for the purple eyes of course.”

Harry rolled his eyes and passed Rhaegon over to Rhaegar and ignored his brother’s chuckle of victory. Rhaegar walked off with a naked Rhaegon still wrapped in a linen cloth, the Lord Commander following, leaving Harry to dry and dress himself properly under the watchful gaze of Ser Barristan Selmy.
He yawned widely and he sort of slumped.

“I swear I’m too old for all this tourney rubbish.” He groaned. “Rhaegar’s excitement just makes me exhausted. He better not injure himself or I’ll give him a word or two.”

“To your bed chambers, my Prince?” Ser Barristan asked him, smiling at him fondly.

“Yes, Ser. I need to crawl into my bed and stay there. If Rhaegar want’s Rhaegon so badly then he can have him overnight and see how much he likes him then.”

Ser Barristan laughed. “Is Rhaegon sleeping through the night now, my Prince?”

“It’s hit and miss still. On some nights he’ll sleep right through, on others he’ll wake up every other hour and squawk until someone picks him up. He was particularly unsettled on the road here. He wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t sleep. He drove me insane with worry.”

“I remember.” Ser Barristan nodded. “I was on duty outside of your tent in the early morning one day and you were still awake and he was crying and refusing to feed or sleep.”

Harry sighed. “Perhaps I should have stayed home in Kings Landing with him, but Rhaegar wanted me to see him joust as I missed the tourney in Storm’s End and I just didn’t realise that he’d be this unsettled.”

“It is a learning curve, my Prince.” Ser Barristan told him gently. “He is your first child, you’re still learning so try not to be so hard on yourself.”

Harry nodded and he sighed again. “Does it make me a bad parent that I’m glad that Rhaegar has taken him? I just…I need a full night’s sleep, but Rhaegar is jousting tomorrow, he can’t joust while tired.”

“If…if you are agreeable, my Prince, perhaps I and my sworn brothers could watch over him for one night, if I don’t speak out of turn, of course. He’d be well protected with six of us watching over him.”

“Would you?” Harry asked with a grin. “Oh, that would be perfect. If only Mother were here, but I’m sure the six of you can look after one baby overnight.”

If they couldn’t, then he would find great amusement in seeing their tired demeanours tomorrow morning when they handed Rhaegon back to him.
They detoured to Rhaegar’s room and found him just finishing off a song on his harp, Rhaegon was fast asleep in the centre of the big bed, dressed in fresh smallclothes and a loose sleeping tunic.

“Look, Ser. Rhaegar has done the hard work for you.” Harry laughed.

“Pardon?” Rhaegar asked.

“Ser Barristan has graciously agreed for him and his brothers to watch over Rhaegon tonight, so that we can both get a full night’s sleep.”

“That’s very gracious of you, Ser. I was going to take him tonight, but I don’t mind as I’m jousting on the morrow.” Rhaegar said as he scooped up the babe and handed him right over.

Ser Barristan looked like he was already regretting his offer, but he stood by it as he nodded to them both and he, and the Lord Commander, left the bed chamber to take Rhaegon to their own chambers, where the six white cloaks were sleeping, just at the end of the corridor.
Harry laughed once they were gone and he went and bolted the door, giving a coy look to Rhaegar.

“It seems that we’ve gotten rid of the baby, and our overseers, for a night.” He grinned.

Rhaegar’s face lit up and he took the few strides to him and lifted him up into his arms.

“It seems that we have. To bed then, brother, if I am to have just one night with you, then I am going to make the most of it.” Rhaegar told him with burning eyes.

Harry chuckled and wrapped himself around Rhaegar, kissing him hard, trying not to breathe so that he didn’t have to break away from Rhaegar’s mouth.
He startled and flailed about, throwing his arms and legs snapping out to catch himself, when he was tipped backwards, but his back met the soft, downy feather mattress and Rhaegar chuckled at him, his purple eyes wide and bright with lust and laughter.

“A bit of warning next time, my love.” Harry said sternly.

“I would never drop you from my arms, my love. Not unless I knew that you would have a soft landing, especially while you’re pregnant with my babe.”

Harry smiled and reached up to pull Rhaegar down to him and into another kiss.

“Enough talking.” He panted. “We’ve gotten rid of the baby!” He reiterated seriously. “Do you not know how rare an occurrence that is, Rhaegar? We’re free for a whole night! Shut up and fuck me.”

Rhaegar didn’t answer, he just swooped in and kissed him hard, his hands finding the lacing of Harry’s breeches and tugging them open without stopping his kissing. As soon as they were open, they were tugged off and Rhaegar did pull back then, to ease them from Harry’s legs.
He bent down and started kissing his legs, starting from the top of his foot and marking a path upwards with his lips.
Harry’s breath came faster with anticipation and he make a soft sound as Rhaegar reached his sensitive inner thighs. His brother-husband paid special attention to this area and he held both of Harry’s legs in each hand and he turned his head to nibble at the opposite inner thigh.

“Oh.” Harry moaned softly at the new sensation and he clenched his hands into fists, where he had them resting on either side of his head.

“I love it when you make that noise for me.” Rhaegar told him, his voice deeper, huskier.

“I just love the things you do to me.” Harry said happily as he looked down into Rhaegar’s beautiful face and got eye contact with him.

Rhaegar smirked back at him and then lowered his mouth back down to kiss a long line across his skin while still watching him for his reaction.
Harry relaxed back down and moaned softly, humming gently.

“That feels so good.” He said.

Rhaegar did it again to the other leg and Harry’s breathing picked up, his chest rising and falling quicker, more so when Rhaegar moved up his leg with little kisses, right to his groin.
Without warning Rhaegar swallowed Harry’s cock all the way down and Harry almost shot off the bed with a shriek, falling back with a loud moan as Rhaegar sucked on him, twisting his fingers through Rhaegar’s silver hair and tugging on it hard.
Harry was rocking his hips gently, easing himself in and out of Rhaegar’s mouth while his brother sucked on him, remaining still, allowing Harry to push in and pull out of his mouth as he liked. The trust of the action was not lost on him and he moaned as he hardened further.
A finger pressed into him, and not expecting it, and unused to such a quick succession of pleasurable events, Harry gasped loudly and pushed into Rhaegar’s mouth hard, the head of himself going down Rhaegar’s throat and choking him for a moment before Harry pulled back.

“Are you okay?” He asked breathlessly as Rhaegar sucked in an extra deep breath once his throat was clear.

Rhaegar chuckled deeply, darkly. “Your eyes rolled back when you pushed into my throat.” Was all he said and Harry’s breath caught at the words.

Rhaegar sat back and started moving his finger inside Harry’s body.

“You’re so impatient tonight.” Harry said, his chest heaving with sensation that was bringing his breath faster.

“I’m jousting on the morrow, I need some sleep.” Rhaegar chuckled. “But I’d never want to miss a night to ravish you. So I’m compromising, I’ll fuck you nice and quick and then go right off to sleep.”

Harry laughed happily and reached out to drag Rhaegar’s head to his own for a kiss, using his hair as a handle.
A second finger pushing into his body had him breaking their kiss to throw his head back onto his pillow with a gasp, his hips rocking reflexively to the added pleasure and he groaned happily.

“You’re driving me mad!” He accused breathlessly.

“Oh?” Rhaegar questioned curiously as he stabbed his fingers into Harry’s body quickly, all but thrusting them as he would his cock when fucking him. He caught that one spot within him on the next push and Harry’s back bowed from the bed.

“Fuck.” Rhaegar cursed as he pulled his fingers free and moved over him, grappling for the glass bottle of oil he always kept near his bed for such an occasion and he splashed some onto his cock, smearing it over with his hand with gritted teeth.

“A little wound up, my love?” Harry teased, panting as he came down from the high of having that spot touched.

Rhaegar laughed deeply. “You always wind me up, even when you don’t mean to. I can’t wait until I can touch you in public, when they all know that you’re mine.”

Rhaegar touched the head of himself to the entrance to Harry’s body gently, rubbing for a moment to transfer the oil to Harry’s skin, before he settled himself and shuffled forward on his knees. Harry took a deep breath in preparation and he relaxed himself. He was more than ready for the big push, when the pressure of his husband pushing against him became too much and his body gave way and Rhaegar breached him.
They both held still for several moments, before Rhaegar continued his movement and settled himself as deeply as he could into his body. Harry wrapped his arms around Rhaegar’s neck, his legs around his back, and he nuzzled along Rhaegar’s throat and jaw, tipping his head back to get a kiss that was freely given.

“I love you more than I could ever express.” Rhaegar told him, moving one hand to brush a tuft of hair out of Harry’s eyes.

“I don’t know, I think you’re doing a wonderful job of expressing your love at the moment.” Harry laughed breathlessly as he wriggled on Rhaegar.

His husband groaned deeply and pulled on his hips as he shoved upwards, trying to reach further into him than he ever had before.

“Fuck.” He cursed again, lowering his head to rest his forehead on Harry’s. “You do wicked things to me.”

“It’s your cock in my arse, let’s not talk about whose doing wicked things to the other, brother.”

Rhaegar laughed lightly. He propped himself back up on his arms, so that he was looking down upon him and he moved his hips back, pulling himself out of Harry before slowly easing himself back into him.
Harry moaned happily and rocked his own hips, encouraging Rhaegar to move quicker. It worked as the next thrust came faster and harder, the one that followed was rougher and then Rhaegar lost all restrictions and he drove the breath from Harry’s lungs.

“Please.” He begged as he tightened his muscles on Rhaegar as much as he could, watching as Rhaegar screwed his eyes closed and gritted his teeth.

“Fuck, you know just how to rile me up!” Rhaegar snarled as he gripped both of his hips and pulled Harry down as he thrust upwards, rubbing across that spot inside him and all Harry could do in response was moan and make mewling noises as everything bar the pleasure was driven from his mind.

He moved his legs higher, clamping them around Rhaegar’s lower back and he used them to encourage Rhaegar to move harder and faster, thrusting his hips up as Rhaegar thrust his own down, making their joining harder and rougher.
Harry’s orgasm built quickly and as Rhaegar caught that spot inside him again, he screamed his release. His brother-husband quickly cut him off with his hand, muffling the scream, even as he clenched his own jaw to prevent his own yell, instead Rhaegar only grunted as he wetted the inside of Harry’s body with his seed. Rhaegar’s body relaxed and he fell down to the side of him and pulled him in close, kissing his head.

“You’re loud.” Rhaegar complained with a smile.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t be as proficient a lover.” Harry told him.

Rhaegar laughed and cuddled him tighter, as they both calmed down and caught their breaths, making themselves more comfortable as they settled down for the night…or at least they were settled down until there was a loud, sharp knock on the door.

“My Prince, a passing servant heard a yell from your room, are you well?” Came the tense, unmistakable voice of Ser Gerold Hightower, the Lord Commander.

“I stood on a fucking brooch.” Rhaegar exclaimed furiously. “Rhaegon must have knocked it off before I bedded him down.”

“Is Prince Haradarian with you?”

“He is.” Rhaegar answered surely, with no hint that there was anything wrong with having his brother staying in his room. “He had a dizzy spell again and he is to stay here with me. He is already fast asleep.”

“Does he need medicine, water?”

“No, Ser. He is sleeping.” Rhaegar replied as he smiled at Harry and held him close. “I am just glad that my yelling did not wake him up.”

“I shall leave you be.” Ser Gerold dismissed himself and Rhaegar kissed Harry and pulled him in closer, laying a heavy hand on his swollen, curved belly.

Harry sighed happily and cuddled in closer.

“I love you.” He said sleepily. “Make sure you keep that brooch safe. Its Valyrian steel, I want it.”

“You already have a dozen Valyrian steel brooches.” Rhaegar told him.

“I want as many as I can lay my hands on.” Harry insisted.

“You’ve been collecting Valyrian steel for years, you’re obsessed with it.”

“I like the ripple of the steel, the dark nature of it. I need more.” Harry said simply.

Rhaegar chuckled and cuddled in tightly to him, still covering his belly protectively. “I’ll buy you more. I’ll buy you whatever you want, my love.”

“Right now I want to sleep off that fantastic orgasm, my love. Shush.”

Rhaegar chuckled again and kissed his head, stroking his belly slowly and rhythmically. They lapsed into silence and Harry yawned, eased into sleep by the quiet, the soft touch to his pregnant belly and the sated exhaustion from his orgasm didn’t hurt either. He smiled to himself, even as he yawned again and rolled to put his back to his Husband. Rhaegar moved a moment later, to put his front to Harry’s back, his hand wrapping back around his pregnant belly. Harry fell asleep only minutes after they both stopped moving, happy to have this one night wrapped up in Rhaegar’s arms. He didn’t know when they would get the chance again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X

The end of the tourney was fraught with anger and arguments and Harry wondered if he was truly cursed. The last tourney that he had personally attended in Lannisport for Viserys’ birth had been cut short too, by their Father, because of Tywin Lannister’s gall at asking for Rhaegar or himself to be married to his daughter, Cersei. This tourney had ended happily enough, with Rhaegar finally winning the champion’s tilt against Ser Barristan Selmy, having unhorsed Ser Arthur in the previous round.
Rhaegar had been given a blue, winter rose laurel crown to present to his chosen Queen of Love and Beauty. He had first approached Harry with a massive grin on his face and Harry had baulked as his brother, in his pitch black armour, stopped in front of him on his black stallion dressed in red to match the Targaryen colours.

‘If that crown touches my head I’m going to ram it down your throat!’ He’d hissed through clenched teeth.

‘But you’re so pretty, baby brother. You deserve to be the Queen of Beauty.’ Rhaegar had teased, much to the amusement of several people sitting close by.

‘I mean it, if that comes anywhere near me…’ He trailed off with his threat, but he only breathed easier when, with a joyous laugh, Rhaegar moved away from him.

He had slumped back in his chair and cuddled a sleeping Rhaegon closer to his chest. He would have loved to have received the crown from Rhaegar, but there was no way that his reputation would survive such an instance. But at least with their little banter, Rhaegar had effectively told him that he was his true chosen Queen of Love and Beauty, even if Harry did baulk at the idea of being called a Queen, even in jest.
Then Rhaegar had gone and crowned Lady Lyanna Stark as his Queen of Love and Beauty. Harry had sighed heavily at the political implications, but he brushed it off, it was a tourney crown, a small title to be held until the next tourney was held and a new Lady was crowned, nothing more. He hadn’t counted on the pride of Lord Robert Baratheon, however.
He had almost struck Rhaegar at the feast that night, thankfully his friend, the young Eddard Stark, had gripped his friend’s arm and pulled it away from Rhaegar, who, from one blink to the next, was suddenly surrounded and protected by the furious Kingsguard, all with their swords drawn and pointed at Lord Baratheon in a clear warning for him to back away from the crown prince.
Harry had a vague memory of a commotion at the Stark end of the top table the night previous, where Lyanna Stark had poured a cup of wine over her younger brother, Benjen’s, head. He had learnt an hour after that incident that Benjen Stark had been teasing his sister for weeping after Rhaegar had played his harp. No woman could resist Rhaegar, he had thought as much over previous years, but he did hope that Lady Lyanna did not fall into the honey trap just because Rhaegar had given her a tourney crown. It meant little, even less to Rhaegar, who had once again spent the night celebrating finally becoming champion of a tourney by making love to him in his bed while an exhausted Rhaegon slept peacefully beside them in the cradle that Lord Whent had provided for their use.
It had been a mere gesture, he’d said when Harry asked why he had crowned her.

‘She was the mystery knight.’ He told Harry.

‘Really?’ Harry had asked, very surprised.

Rhaegar had nodded. ‘I found her stashing the shield in a tree when Father sent me to unmask the mystery knight. Apparently she saw a squire, a friend of hers or something, being beat upon by the other squires and she wanted to teach the knights a lesson by beating them and then giving their horses back without taking a ransom, giving them only a warning to clout their squires more and to teach them the honour of being a true knight. I was intrigued by her being able to beat three knights and I wanted her to know that I thought she jousted well and that I would keep her secret.’

Harry sighed as he hefted Rhaegon up higher as his son squirmed to be put down. He wanted to toddle off and explore his surroundings as the ancient style, seven sided melee took place.
Rhaegar took Rhaegon from him and tipped him upside down, making Rhaegon screech and giggle. Harry smiled, but with his hands free, he could now take a cup of wine from a servant. It was watered down, it being only the afternoon, but it was so refreshing and light that he called for a second cup before he’d finished the first.
He yawned and gave a nudge to Rhaegar when he grinned, all smug, male pride at being the cause of Harry’s tiredness. He fell asleep in his chair without meaning to, only to be woken up when his baby son smacked him hard across the face.

“No, Rhaegon!” He heard Rhaegar chastise sternly. “We do not hit those we love!”

A moment later Rhaegon was crying and Harry’s head pounded with the beginning of an ache that was going to keep him pained for the rest of the day. He shouldn’t have had that wine.

“Pass him here.” He sighed as he reached over and took his son from his Husband, holding the babe on his lap as he cried, making the ache in his head spike painfully.

“I’m sorry, I should have been paying closer attention. I was distracted by the melee, I didn’t see him reach over.” Rhaegar told him.

“It’s alright, he’s a boisterous boy and he doesn’t like me sleeping.” Harry yawned and sat himself up straight, soothing his babe until his cries trailed off.

He wiped Rhaegon’s face and his little nose, then set him on the floor on his feet, between his legs, encouraging him to hold onto the wooden rail. His mouth opened and he bit into it, as Harry had known that he would, his purple eyes watching the seven on seven fighting as he gnawed on the wood.
He sat back and cut a glance to Rhaegar. He smiled and gave a small look to his swelling belly. Rhaegar sat forward, adjusted himself, then sat back. As he sat back his hand fleetingly pressed against the curve of his belly and Harry couldn’t stop the grin that took over his face.
He turned in his chair and looked for the Lady Ashara, the woman he was going to marry in a few more moon turns. He caught her eyes and she smiled at him, he winked at her and they both laughed, which startled the Ladies sat around the Lady Ashara, but as she stood and made her way to him, he gave a look to Rhaegar to let him know that what was to happen next was only a show and he slipped his hand into Rhaegar’s and squeezed gently.
Lady Ashara perched on the arm of his chair and he wrapped his free arm around her, acting as if they were already intimately acquainted and they both watched the melee. Rhaegon, who looked like he could be their true born son, was stood in front of them. He turned to look at them, but the eleven turn old boy thought nothing of their actions as he turned right back around and bit into a new part of the rail, leaving tiny teeth marks where he went.

“I do not understand this melee.” Lady Ashara sighed. “Archery, jousting and even axe throwing I can understand, but not this. More men have been injured in this melee than have been all tourney.”

“I don’t understand it either.” Harry agreed. “A complete waste of able-bodied men. Jousting is barely tolerable, what with the amount of head and chest injuries, without the broken legs or arms, but this is just a mess. Those two are supposed to be on the same side, but they’re fighting each other.”

Lady Ashara looked to where Harry had pointed interestedly and she gave a dainty laugh behind her hand when she saw what he had seen.

“You’re right, they’re both wearing stars.” She giggled.

“Yet they’re so senseless from taking blows to the head for the last half an hour that they can’t even see it.”

“If all of these men aren’t injured in some way then it’ll be a poor melee.” Rhaegar chuckled from beside them. “It has always been said that the melee is for those who don’t have the skill to joust.”

“None of these men have the brains to do anything other than charge at each other randomly.” Harry said derisively. “They can’t even recognise who is supposedly on their own side.”

Lady Ashara laughed again.

“Ma!”

Harry looked down, to see Rhaegon had turned around and he was holding his arms up to Ashara.

“My Prince?” She asked before she touched him.

“Go ahead, before he has a screaming fit.” Harry chuckled.

Lady Ashara picked up the boy and he snuggled into her ample chest. His eyes drooped and he yawned, within moments he was asleep, his arms locked around Lady Ashara’s neck and his knees tucked up as she supported his bottom with her arm.

“Looks like he’s found another person to use as his own personal pillow.” Harry chuckled.

“I don’t mind. By the gods, he’s so beautiful though.”

“He is.” Harry smiled happily as he looked into Rhaegon’s sleeping face. “He’s growing so fast.”

“He is, I still remember first seeing him, when you first brought him to Starfall five turns ago. He was so tiny, but the way he ate those berries off of that spoon.” She giggled. “I have never seen such a young babe doing as such.”

“Would you accompany me to a quieter place?” He asked as a yell from the fighters caused a spike of pain in his temple, he really shouldn’t have had that wine. “I find this melee is taking too long and it is tiresome. I have grown bored of it.”

“Of course, my Prince.”

“Harry, please.” He insisted.

Ashara smiled at him and stood with Rhaegon still in her arms. Harry stood after her and he gave a smile to Rhaegar. Their ploy was going as planned, they would be much safer soon.
He went to an inner solar with Ashara and her brother Ser Arthur. Once behind closed doors, Harry’s arm fell from her shoulders and they both sat on opposite chairs.

“How is the ruse fairing?” Ser Arthur asked them.

“I believe that we are adequately fooling the others into believing that Ashara and I are getting closer.”

“Closer than close after that display at the melee.” Ser Arthur replied.

Harry chuckled. “No one saw Rhaegar’s hand in mine.”

“I did.” Ashara smiled. “I have never thought of two men being together in such a way, but you and Rhaegar complement each other in a way that I have never seen before. You know each other so well, enough that he can read your face and know what you’re thinking and you the same. It must be amazing to have such a bond with someone.”

“What you say is true, I can look at Rhaegar and know immediately if he is happy, upset or angry, even if he is trying to hide such emotions and masks his expressions. We can communicate silently, through looks or gestures, and we always know what to say or do to cheer up the other. I love him, with everything that I am. I couldn’t imagine a life without him there. I wouldn’t want to live a life without him.”

“That is why we, Prince Lewyn and I, are so set on protecting you, Rhaegar and Rhaegon more than anything else.”

“Won’t King Aerys notice?” Ashara asked worriedly.

Ser Arthur shook his head. “The two older Princes are back in his favour since…” He trailed off and went pale, looking to Harry to see his reaction. Especially after he had blown up at a city watchman for mentioning his captivity not a turn previous.

Harry sighed heavily. “Since my captivity he sees a kindred spirit in me, as he was a captive in Duskendale. He adores Rhaegar again because of how he took over and tortured the survivors of the Kingswood Brotherhood and he loves us both because we agreed to burn the captives as a form of execution instead of beheading them as is the usual method of execution.”

“Why did you agree to burn them? It’s so…barbaric.”

“Ashara, remember your place.” Ser Arthur demanded of his younger sister.

“No, she’s correct. I find death by burning very distasteful. It was a tactical decision on both our parts to get us back into our Father’s favour to keep ourselves, and our Rhaegon, safer. I woke up on the morning that Rhaegar burnt the two other prisoners and I told him to have Father burn them to put us back in his favour. It was a calculated decision as we’re safe as long as he favours us. Neither of us have a taste for burning people, I assure you. I was almost sick when I burnt the man who had raped me.”

“I didn’t mean to bring any of this up.” Ser Arthur told him gently, laying a comforting hand on Harry’s slim shoulder.

He sighed and smiled. “I know. It’s alright, Ser. Rhaegar has helped me through what I believe is the worst of things. My shoulder still aches from time to time, but I am finally fully healed and all those involved have been killed or sent to the wall. It is time to put it behind me and move forward. Not to mean that I want just anyone bringing it up or mentioning it, like city watchmen or the servants, but you are not just anyone, you are a friend.”

“Have you had nightmares recently?” Ashara asked gently.

Harry shook his head. “No, not any more. I did have a few when I was newly rescued. It was a difficult time and I found it hard to adjust at first, I didn’t like anyone touching me, not even Rhaegar. I was still dirty, hurt and scared in my mind. It took me a while to get over that and to come around to the idea that I was home and not in a crow cage still. I would wake up thinking that I was still a captive and I’d lash out at those nearest to me before I caught up to the fact that I wasn’t a prisoner any longer. It was a terrible time and it took me longer than I would have imagined to recover from it, both mentally and physically.”

“I’m glad that you’re home.”

“Me too.” Harry smiled.

“May I dance with you later?” Ashara asked him.

Harry chuckled. “I would enjoy that. Oberyn has been trying to dance with me again.”

“He is a lusty pest.” Ashara laughed. “I danced with him on the first night and his hands were everywhere!”

“I danced with him in Sunspear and his hands were everywhere.” Harry laughed happily. “You should have seen his face light up when I revealed the true nature of mine and Rhaegar’s marriage. He spent the rest of my stay there trying to get me into his bed. Rhaegar was not pleased when I told him. He won’t leave me alone with Oberyn anymore.” Harry laughed. “You’d think that he doesn’t trust me, but it’s Oberyn and those wandering hands of his that he doesn’t trust. He doesn’t like people touching me.”

Lady Ashara and Ser Arthur laughed with him. The door swung open without announcement, but it was only Rhaegar who walked through with Ser Oswell following him.

“Are you well?” Harry asked as his Husband looked a little ruffled to Harry’s expert eyes.

“Baratheon tried to corner me again, in a privy of all places! You’d think that I’d done him a huge disservice or something.”

“Are you alright?” Harry asked concernedly as Rhaegar sat next to him.

“Perfectly fine. Baratheon didn’t count on Ser Oswell being right around the corner as my shield for the day.” Rhaegar nodded to the brother of the Kingsguard and he sighed. “This is ridiculous, he should be happy that I crowned his betrothed as the Queen of Love and Beauty, it makes her a more desirable match.”

“I think it’s more to do with the fact that Lady Lyanna is swooning over you.” Harry replied.

“Excuse me?” Rhaegar demanded.

Lady Ashara nodded in support of Harry’s words. “Yes, she’s been talking of little else other than your harp playing or that you crowned her as your chosen Queen. She’s reading more into it than there is.”

Rhaegar put his face into his hands and rubbed vigorously. “It’s a tourney crown!” He growled. “A tourney title, nothing more! It’s not as if I announced any intentions to marry her, or even bed her! I would never.”

“Perhaps she’ll get the message when you and Elia marry.” Harry said kindly.

Rhaegar sucked in a deep breath. “She had better. I dislike being unkind to Ladies, but if that’s what it takes, I’ll need to do so. I cannot allow anything dissuade Princess Elia from marrying me. We need the support of Dorne too much.”

“Pray tell, why didn’t you crown Princess Elia?” Ser Oswell asked.

Harry knew why, but Rhaegar just sighed.

“I do not know her very well yet, but I do know that I did not want to embarrass her, she is a very delicate woman and she dislikes attention more than I do. So I just gave it away to the first person that I saw. Elia thanked me afterwards for not crowning her, she didn’t want it or the attention it would have garnered her.”

“After you came to me with it!” Harry scowled.

“None can deny that you are more beautiful than half the Ladies in the realm.” Rhaegar told him. “You should be the Queen of Love and Beauty.”

“You call me a Queen again and I’ll poison you.”

“You would never use your lead link to kill me.” Rhaegar said surely.

“Kill you? Oh no, dear brother. You misunderstand. Why would I kill you outright? That would be so dissatisfying, not to mention quick, especially when there are milder poisons that are much more fun to play around with, ones that won’t kill you, but will make you very uncomfortable. I have one in particular in mind that will have you shitting brown water for a week. That would serve you right for coming near me with a crown of flowers!”

Rhaegar laughed so loudly that he accidentally woke up Rhaegon, who whined sleepily.

“Da!” He cried out, having recognised Rhaegar’s voice. “Da.”

He twisted around and looked at the people in the room before reaching for Rhaegar. “Da.” He said softer now that he could actually see his Father.

Rhaegar took him and sat him on his knee as Rhaegon rubbed at his eyes before peering around with eyes the same colour purple as his Father’s. He lay against Rhaegar’s chest, snuggling in sleepily as he was still tired having been woken up so suddenly. Harry reached out and stroked his soft cheek gently with a smile.

“Ma.” Rhaegon said quietly before his body sagged.

Rhaegar cuddled him in and cradled him softly in his large arms and it melted Harry’s heart. He placed a hand over his growing belly and he felt the slight curve there. It made him smile.
He shifted closer to Rhaegar under the guise of checking on Rhaegon and he placed his hand over his son’s body.

“I still can’t believe that it has been almost a year.” He said quietly.

“It certainly has been a hectic year.” Rhaegar chuckled.

“But completely worth it.” Harry added with a smile as he curled his hand around Rhaegon’s tiny fist.

“Completely worth it.” Rhaegar agreed with him.

Harry smiled and he ignored Ser Oswell being present and he rested against Rhaegar, putting him on eye level with Rhaegon, so he could stay where he was and just trace the face of his son, memorise every line and curve. He loved his son so very much and it upset him to think that perhaps right now he would have had another one if he’d carried to seven turns again, as he had done for Rhaegon.
He sighed and pushed that from his mind. He couldn’t keep thinking in such a way or he was going to drive himself mad. He needed to move forward, he couldn’t keep thinking of the babe that he’d lost, he needed to concentrate on Rhaegon, on his new babe forming, not the one that he had cruelly lost thanks to the Kingswood Brotherhood or he’d never be happy again and he had far too much already to just throw it away as he looked upon his beautiful husband, Rhaegar, and their even more beautiful son, Rhaegon. He had far, far too much to just throw it away for a babe who had been taken from him before he’d even had a chance to hold them.
It had been cruel and heart wrenching and it always would be, but he refused to allow it to take away from what he already had, his Rhaegar, his Rhaegon and his new babe forming. That was what was important now, everything else would be pushed behind him. He smiled to himself as Rhaegar shifted and slipped an arm around him under the guise of getting comfortable as Rhaegon fell asleep on his chest. Harry sighed softly and shifted even closer to Rhaegar. Everything was going to be just fine, he had everything that he needed to make him happy right here and he was not going to throw that away, not because of the Brotherhood, not because of anything. It was time to move on and be happy.

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A/N: This took me a little longer than I thought, mostly because it just kept getting longer as I read it through! Almost 50,000 words in one chapter, utter madness. But this is the longest chapter in this six part fic, thankfully. No more hellish read throughs like this one again!
The next chapter is not as long as this one, but it is not the shortest chapter either, but again, there are some serious warnings at the beginning of the next chapter too, so be sure to read them first.
San: If you want to read it without the sex scenes, then you can go to FF.net, all of the sex scenes have been removed on this site, so you can read it without those scenes if you wanted.
I hope you've all enjoyed this chapter, lovelies, please let me know your thoughts on this massive chapter! The next chapter will likely be a week Tuesday/Wednesday now, because this one was late and I need to do the read through for it and though it is shorter than this chapter, which isn't difficult, it's still not something to sniff at, so it still needs some time to get through and four days just isn't going to be enough.

StarLight Massacre. X
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The Dragons' Rebirth