The Prince of Scrolls [ASOIAF / Game of Thrones AU]

[Walder Black]

Jaehaerys had had time to calm down on his way to Casterly Rock. He had even begun to feel a slight anticipation about seeing his daughter. He still felt regret, of course, but also a sense of excitement.

"Shouldn't you get a gift for your daughter?" asked Brandon, who was riding beside him.

"I've started to prepare one." On the road, between breaks and when the others were asleep, he had begun to carve wood. He wanted to create a figure of a dragon and another of a wolf.

The dragon had begun to take shape. He wanted it to resemble his white dragon. It seemed appropriate for his daughter to have something like that. According to his calculations, she was just a baby. She had been born about six moons ago and was probably still nursing from Sansa's breasts.

"Is there anything you're bad at, Jaehaerys?" Brandon's tone was slightly friendly and envious, although Jaehaerys knew there was no malice in it.

"I'm bad at poetry, singing, and plants." He had tried to have a garden at Winterfell, but he couldn't.

In the end, Sansa had helped him, at first a little apprehensive about getting dirty, but over time, she began to enjoy gardening. Jaehaerys used to get books on rare flowers from around the world. Those books were for Sansa.

In a leather bag tied to his horse, he carried a herbarium. He had gotten it from a merchant who was trying to win his favor. It was a book with plants pressed, dried, and preserved between its pages. He thought Sansa would like it. He had bought it months ago.

'I'm also horrible at sterilizing things and good at blowing things up.' He couldn't say it out loud without being seen as crazy.

"We'll be passing Riverrun soon," Brandon said. "Don't you think it would be nice to meet old Tully?"

"No, let's keep going." He didn't want to deal with Hoster at that moment. Although he found it a bit fucked up that the man was Sansa's grandfather.

"My ass hurts from riding," Brandon complained. They were riding at the head of the group at the moment, with no one to hear them, so he could afford to be a little vulgar.

"On your trip to Essos, did you stop by the Summer Islands?" asked the prince.

"Huh? No," he replied, confused. "Although I'd like to see a woman with 18 tits."

"It's 16," corrected Jaehaerys. "I thought you might have bought a polished stick on the islands," he said with a sigh.

"A what?" Brandon asked, frowning.

"It's a stick that replaces a penis. I see your relationship with Rowena was that strong," said the prince. "No wonder your ass hurts after a short ride. She rides you often too."

"Nothing goes in there; it only comes out." Brandon looked at him as if Jaehaerys had said he killed his brother.

"But you don't deny your relationship with Rowena?" asked the prince.

"That... is complicated. She is a complicated woman," said Brandon.

"Of course, you wouldn't like a normal woman," added Jaehaerys.

Brandon let out a rather prominent laugh. Jaehaerys turned off his mind a little as they talked about topics that no one would expect a prince to touch on.

After a considerable amount of time, he looked back. The men were following them at a significant distance. He looked at the sun; by the time they reached their position, it would be dusk. Both men looked for a small clearing before beginning to set up a temporary camp, although they had to wait for the other men to arrive.

The escort consisted mainly of knights, as they were expected to be able to ride. There were a few Unsullied among them; they had learned to ride during their time at ArgentStone and were quite decent at it, at least capable of maintaining order.

Serena rode alongside her Dornish guards. The woman had wanted to travel to meet her father. Jaehaerys warned her of the fast pace it would entail, but the woman had remained stubborn and confident that she could endure it.

Jaehaerys watched the girl's legs tremble; the ride must have exhausted her. She had been raised as a princess, not a warrior.

"Don't try it, not here or at Casterly Rock," he said as he lit a fire. "A sneak attack in the middle of the night could get you killed by one of my guards, and at Casterly Rock it would make you look like a savage," he said, sensing the girl's intention.

"Are you expecting us to be attacked while we travel?" she asked, without fear in her voice.

"Yes, common bandits. We left too quickly for those who want me dead to ambush me. Besides, since we're traveling without banners, they'll hardly know who we are. There are hundreds of groups traveling to Casterly Rock at this time. We may seem like easy prey," he explained to the girl.

At that moment, it would not be a good idea for her to try to attack him, especially in the stealthy way she usually did.

"Do you think my grandfather sends the Mountain and his people disguised as bandits?" she asked aloud.

"You should learn that having a mouth doesn't mean it's okay to speak," Jaehaerys scolded, looking at the Dornish guard, who shrugged. "Although that's quite specific."

"You humiliated Clegane; it wouldn't be strange for him to seek revenge," said the Martell girl. "My grandfather wants you dead, doesn't he?" she asked.

Jaehaerys did not respond, busy with the fire.

"More men are approaching, princess. It would not be wise to continue this conversation," said the Dornishman who followed Serena. The girl reluctantly fell silent.

Her guardian was relatively lax in his duties, letting her do as she pleased. That was why she took his words seriously when he warned her about things she should not do.

"Train me with the spear," she ordered Vaeryn, who was the name of her guard.

"You should rest," said Jaehaerys.

"Vaeryn, come on," the stubborn girl walked away to an open field. She did not use a spear for training, but a smooth stick that resembled a Bo.

Jaehaerys could tell she was pretty good at it; in a few moons, she could start using nunchucks.

The men arrived and helped set up camp. The prince slept in a tent the same size as the others, with a few men inside, while others stood guard outside.

Night fell, and the men rested, except for the few unlucky ones who had to stand guard. Jaehaerys did not have to stand guard, but he had not been able to fall asleep easily lately.

He left his tent, as he had done on many other days spent traveling. He looked for the light of the campfire and was alarmed to see no men on watch. Men might neglect their duty for a few minutes while they went to relieve themselves, but there should have been three men on watch, and none were in sight.

He stayed in the shadows as he explored among the few tents. Soon, he found the corpse of a young knight. His throat had been slit like a pig in a slaughterhouse. Jaehaerys allowed himself half a second of pity before waking his men.

In no time, the camp became active, with men moving back and forth, searching, but they found nothing that night. The other two men disappeared, although they left their horses behind.

Nor did they find anything in the nights that followed. They continued on their way, increasing the night watches.

Not finding the killers took its toll on the men. Little by little, they began to distrust each other, pointing fingers at one another. No other men died, but it mattered little. Chaos had been sown.

"How long until we reach Casterly Rock?" the prince asked one of his knights. The man, like all the others, had deep circles under his eyes.

"A week, although we may not make it," Jaehaerys heard the man say.

He would agree. The person who initiated this attack did so with the intention of causing panic. His men had not slept well and were unlikely to do so.

"They'll probably attack before we get there," thought the prince. 'I should have traveled by river.' He had chosen to travel by land because it was more likely to encounter the Starks that way. He had heard no words about how the Starks were traveling.

Jaehaerys closed his eyes, fatigue affecting even him.

Suddenly, he heard a horn, announcing the approach of enemies.

A group of horsemen charged in his direction. Jaehaerys expected to see a huge figure leading them, but it seemed that it was not what he expected; they looked like common bandits. However, it was difficult for bandits to acquire horses.

"Get ready," he shouted. They were in an esplanade, and it would take the enemies a few minutes to arrive.

Jaehaerys mounted his horse, chose his three-section staff as a weapon, and waited for the enemies to arrive. Their figures gradually grew larger. He looked to his side and saw that a group of Unsullied was already ready for battle.

The prince closed his eyes, wishing he could get some sleep before the bandits arrived.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

The clatter of horses' hooves striking the grass woke him. He had slept for a minute or two, or perhaps not at all. It wasn't easy to tell. He closed his eyes and waited.

His group of nearly fifty men was at his side, and the bandits were in similar numbers. Evenly matched in numbers, Jaehaerys' men would have wiped out common bandits, but at that moment, with fatigue working against them, it was hard to tell.

Jaehaerys spurred his horse forward, frowning. He wasn't used to fighting on horseback. His weapon required precise control so as not to hit himself with it, and on horseback, he would have to be careful not to hit his mount as well.

"Agh," he brought his palm to his face.

He dismounted in one swift movement and patted Coal, or Black Sapphire as Daenerys liked to call him, on the rear. The horse galloped toward the empty camp. Serena would have company.

Jaehaerys took a closer look at the attackers. They did not appear to be common bandits; they wore chain mail and carried steel weapons.

'Someone armed them,' he thought, assuming that his journey by land had not gone entirely unnoticed. He wondered who. The obvious answer was Tywin, but the obvious is not always the correct answer. Whether Tywin would be capable of launching an attack knowing Serena was at Jaehaerys's side was unknown to the prince.

The first man had blue eyes. He could not withstand more than one blow to the chest from Jaehaerys's three-section staff. The second had brown eyes, as did the third. The sixth had green eyes, and he even saw one with gray eyes.

Jaehaerys found it curious how, regardless of the color of their eyes, they all died with the same expression on their faces. Their pupils dilated, and their expressions were surprised. Some cried, but they could not beg. A blow to the lungs ended up bursting them; there was one whose head he crushed.

Soon, the charging men had passed the prince, who remained standing unharmed, only fatigue affecting him. He had to turn around to continue fighting, attacking the men who were facing his knights from behind.

Many might consider it unchivalrous to attack from behind. Jaehaerys didn't care; it wasn't as if they could withstand a blow from the front.

"Mercy, my lord, mercy!" In the end, there were little more than ten bandits left, begging for their lives.

Jaehaerys walked among the corpses of the attackers. He recognized two men, two knights from King's Landing who had accompanied him, the two who had been keeping watch and who had disappeared days ago.

"Traitors." He felt a slight heaviness. Even though he was not in danger, he couldn't help thinking how screwed up it was that his men had been overcome by panic. He looked at the Unsullied. They were the exception; they never faltered. When they were ordered to sleep, they slept; when they were ordered to keep watch, they did so without fear.

"Unsullied... good work. It's nice to have fearless men under my command," said the prince. The other men bowed their heads, ashamed, some with a little anger. "Everyone fought well today," he said at last, but the men felt no happiness. "According to your contribution, the Unsullied may take whatever they want from the corpses, then the rest of you," he told them.

There were only about fifteen Unsullied, who could have taken everything if they wanted to, but they did not. Until then, they had only been wearing spears and leather armor, so they took the opportunity to take chain mail.

The bandits had gold and silver on them, but the glitter of precious metals did not tempt the Unsullied; they only wanted better armor to protect their prince.

When they were done, the prince gave the go-ahead for the other men to take whatever they wanted.

When a man sees another man not taking advantage of his position, he feels the need to behave similarly. The men took the swords, although they were of lesser quality than the ones they already had; they could be helpful if they needed a spare. They looked at the gold and silver, but taking it would mean they were worse than a eunuch.

In the end, they collected the gold and silver for the prince.

"No one has taken more lives than you, Your Majesty," they said as they presented all the coins they had collected. Jaehaerys took them, knowing he would probably end up using them to pay for his men's food and lodging.

The men looked at the prince with shame and devotion.

Perhaps if the man who praised the Unsullied over the proud knights had been a fat lord who had never touched a sword in his life, they might have held a grudge. But each of them looked at the prince's ability. No one knew how many blows he had struck in battle, but they knew that the number was the same as the people he killed.

With a prince who fought alongside them and contributed the most during the fight, who would be so brazen as to say anything?

"Pri-Prince!" one of the bandits called out to him. Now they were tied up tightly, stripped of their armor and weapons. The prince's men were not kind; he could see the red marks where the ropes were tied so tightly that it must have been painful.

"Ah, yes... who sent you?" asked the prince.

"Nobo-ahhhhh!" the man screamed in horror as he ended up splattered with the brain matter of the man next to him. He felt the prince's steel graze his cheek; a little more, and he would have ended up disfigured.

"Do I need to ask again?" The prince swung his weapon.

"He was a merchant, a fat man," the man said, staring at the black steel stained red. The weapon swung back and forth like a pendulum, and the man was mesmerized.

Jaehaerys closed his eyes. The man didn't seem to be lying at all. The smell of shit and urine told him how scared he was.

"All the merchants I know are fat. Tell me something more specific," the prince ordered.

The man swallowed, forcing his brain to think, to remember. His eyes went to the left. Jaehaerys could almost see the synapses of his neurons. According to his previous life, when a man looked to the left while thinking of an answer to his question, it meant he was trying to remember, while looking to the right meant he was trying to make something up.

Jae didn't know if it was true or if it had any scientific basis, but the man's eyes almost popped out of their sockets as he looked to the left.

"He had a dragon pendant, his beard was braided, he, he," the man couldn't remember anymore.

"Looks like he shit himself," Brandon said, wiping his sword.

After Jaehaerys, there was no other man who had killed more bandits than Brandon.

In tales of war, Brandon would undoubtedly have been a legend if Jaehaerys had not been present.

"And he fainted," Jaehaerys kicked the man's face a little, but he did not react.

'A dragon pendant,' he thought. His mind went straight to Pentos, but the chances of Illyrio Mopatis being the mastermind behind it were slim.

"Are you from Essos?" he asked the men in general.

The men shook their heads, and Jaehaerys could not detect the Essosi accent in which he had asked the question; the others seemed to have features similar to those of the smallfolk in Westeros.

"Do we kill them?" asked an Unsullied.

"No, count how many of our own we lost," the prince ordered. "And ask the men about the nearest castle. We need to leave the prisoners in a dungeon. They will go to the Night's Watch," he said.

"I refuse to freeze in the Nor-" one of the bandits complained, but he couldn't finish speaking before his jaw was torn from his body.

The prince looked at the others, silently asking for their consent.

They consented.

"We have lost three men, one of whom had a daughter in ArgentStone," the Unsullied did not flinch at the violence he witnessed. He had lived through and done worse things to more innocent people.

"I see. Order that their bodies be preserved and sent to ArgentStone, with an escort of five men," the prince commanded.

"Are you sure you want to do without five men?" Brandon asked.

"I considered coming with only thirty. The others came because Daenerys asked me to," the prince confessed.

"I will carry out your orders, Prince Jaehaerys, Lord Brandon," said the Unsullied.

"I am not a lord, eunuch," said Brandon, shooing him away.

"Warrior Brandon," the Unsullied bowed and left.

"Now I feel bad for calling him a eunuch," said Brandon. Jaehaerys smiled a little.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Jaehaerys and his group had ridden along the Gold Road until they reached Deep Den, the settlement of House Lydden. Jaehaerys left the prisoners at the castle and allowed his men to rest. Lord Lydden was friendly, but he seemed tense from the moment Jaehaerys set foot in his house.

He gave the impression of wanting to impress him with stories of his house, such as when they married into the Lannister family. Joffrey Lannister was an Andal, born Lydden, who ultimately married the daughter of King Gerold III Lannister. When King Gerold died without a male heir, Joffrey took the surname Lannister and ruled as the first Andal to be king of Casterly Rock.

Jaehaerys was a little intrigued by the story, but not too surprised.

He did not stay long, declining Lord Lewys Lydden's invitation to a banquet. Casterly Rock was only a few days away. He left the prisoners and asked that they be sent to the Wall, even leaving a few gold coins. They could send a letter to the Wall so that they would be picked up when they came to recruit.

On the day of his departure, he had the misfortune of meeting Stevron Frey and his son Aegon Frey. Stevron had been married to Jayne Lydden, Lord Lewys's aunt. Aegon, despite being almost fifty years old, was unmarried. He was a man with... mental deficiencies, and Jinglebell was the nickname he received from the Freys. Apparently, he was a kind of jester.

He wasn't hilarious at all, and his attempts to make the prince laugh didn't work. He was just a dirty, retarded old man. Although everyone around him seemed to laugh. His humor lay in his intellectual disability.

"Didn't you find that funny, Serena?" he asked the girl riding beside him.

Serena had remained hidden by her guards on the day of the battle with the bandits. She was not entirely happy with that, especially when she heard the men talking about what a great warrior Jaehaerys was. She wanted to see him fighting again.

"No. He stank of urine," the girl complained.

"Your family will be there, including---" Serena interrupted the prince.

"Joffrey, I know," said the girl.

"I'll keep you away from him. I can order Brandon to be your guard. The Dornish may take orders from Joffrey, but Brandon does not. Even an Unsullied will be able to protect you," the prince gave her options. Once at Casterly Rock, he might not have any chance of protecting her personally from Joffrey, but his men could do it.

"Will you use the information about my brother for your own purposes?" asked the princess, ignoring his words.

"No," replied the prince. He had considered it a possibility, but even then, it was not something that would affect anything beyond tarnishing the Lannister family name and causing a little chaos.

"A pity," said the girl.

"Oh, you wanted me to use it?" Serena didn't want to appear weak at all, so she kept that information to herself, regardless of the problems it would cause.

"I wouldn't mind if you used it," she shrugged, seemingly indifferent to the situation.

"I won't use it, it's not my story to tell," the prince put a hand on the girl's shoulder, and she trembled at his touch.

"If you killed Joffrey..." the girl didn't know how to continue.

"Your father trained Joffrey; he's a jerk, but he's not weak. Honestly, you don't stand a chance against him," he was direct and, perhaps, a little cruel. "Kill him in your grandfather's castle, and you'll be discovered, Kinslayer. Being a woman, I don't know what would happen to you if the silent sisters or death," the prince explained the consequences. "If you want him dead, you can tell your father," he said.

"I don't want him dead," she denied, Jaehaerys feeling a little strange at her words. "I want to kill him myself," she finished in a flat voice.

Jaehaerys nodded; she wasn't the first person who wanted to kill her own brother. Within House Targaryen, there was more than one with that ambition.

The days passed, and soon the Rock came into view. It was not a castle built of stone. No, it was a mountain made into a castle. The Casterlys built it and later became the property of the Lannisters thanks to Lann the Clever.

It was enormous, a mountain after all, with labyrinthine passageways carved out of natural caves.

At its foot lay Lannisport, one of the five cities of Westeros. Jaehaerys hoped that the small settlement outside Argentstone would grow large enough to be considered a city.

In the distance, Jaehaerys could see people on horseback approaching, a sun pierced by a spear visible on a pole.

"Oberyn Martell," he greeted the man when he reached his side. Oberyn passed him by and welcomed his daughter.

Jaehaerys shrugged; he didn't care about the man. They had exchanged barbs and compliments at King's Landing. And with Cersei whispering in his ear, it was unlikely that Oberyn would have much goodwill toward him. Not to mention that he might see Jaehaerys as a threat to Elia Martell's children, Aegon and Rhaenys.

"Father, the prince has greeted you," Serena escaped her father's embrace. Oberyn had hugged her awkwardly on horseback.

"Oh, yes, welcome to Casterly Rock," he said indifferently.

"Oh, Serena, I hope you missed your family," Joffrey said as he approached. Serena stiffened for a moment, even bowing her head in submission.

"I really felt a sharp pain when Grandfather asked me to come, knowing I would have to see your stupid face," the girl said. Joffrey was surprised, and even Oberyn looked at her curiously. Serena's father looked at Jaehaerys with a frown, as if he thought his daughter's change was because of him.

"No one blames you, Serena. We're sure the prince keeps you quite busy," said a dark-haired girl, one of Oberyn's daughters. Jaehaerys didn't recognize which one it was, Nymeria or Tyene. He couldn't quite remember her features. It was easy to identify Obara, who looked at him like prey to be hunted.

Oberyn did not react at all to the fact that his young daughter might be having an affair with the prince. Instead, he looked at the weapon at the prince's horse's side.

"I have no desire to fight, Prince Oberyn," Jaehaerys could sense the prince's desire to test his staff.

Oberyn did not stop looking at him, like a snake assessing whether or not it could eat a lamb in one bite.

"Serena, do you remember my words?" he asked the girl.

"I want Brandon to be my protector," she replied quickly. Jaehaerys noticed how, days ago, she wanted to ignore his request. But she quickly changed her mind after meeting Joffrey. Her fear had subsided, but it reappeared when she saw him.

Brandon waited for no orders from anyone before riding alongside Serena, looking at Joffrey with a grimace of disgust that he tried to hide. Oberyn also said nothing as he assessed Brandon.

"I don't swallow swords either," said the bastard.

"It's a shame to limit yourself to the pleasures this world offers," said the prince, having finished evaluating the men.

Oberyn spoke to the prince on the way to the Rock in a more formal manner, seeking to inquire about his intentions toward his daughter. Afterward, he moved on to discussing the construction at ArgentStone.

At one point, he began to talk about his time at the Citadel, perhaps seeking to gauge Jaehaerys' reaction. The prince glanced at him sideways at that moment, a hint of disdain crossing his gaze, but he did not hide it quickly enough to escape the Red Viper's notice.

"Problems with the Citadel?" Oberyn asked.

"None whatsoever," replied the prince, bored. "Their book collection is quite impressive," he continued.

"It's more than a book collection," said Oberyn, not at all offended, simply seeking to discover more.

"They merely record. They rarely create." Jaehaerys shrugged.

"Do you consider yourself a creator, Jaehaerys?" asked one of Oberyn's daughters, who was not dressed as revealingly as the others.

"Creator? I would say a researcher, a scientist," he replied.

Although the truth was that he had not done much research, he had spent his time in Westeros more focused on discovering how to implement his knowledge of the modern world. "Are you Sarella Sand?" he asked the woman, who had dark skin and curly hair. Her eyes were black like her father's.

"Yes, my prince." The bastard was surprised that the prince recognized her instead of her more famous sisters. "Have you ever been to Oldtown?" the girl asked.

"I don't plan on going anywhere near that place." Jaehaerys would have described it as a nest of vermin if he could have spoken freely.

The prince considered Casterly Rock to be much safer than the Citadel. The Citadel held secrets that he did not yet know. At Casterly Rock, he would find steel beneath the silk.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Jaehaerys separated from the Dornish as they entered the Rock. The maze-like tunnels required them to be guided. Serena left with her family, while Sarella seemed to want to talk to the prince.

The prince was surprised that Tywin allowed Oberyn's bastard daughters to walk around his castle as if nothing had happened; one would think he would not allow such "dishonor" to his house.

"Prince, Lord Tywin wishes to see you." A squire had been sent for him. The boy had given him bread and salt, an insult to the royal family. Jaehaerys didn't mind; he wasn't planning to be so polite.

The boy had golden hair, like most things he had encountered since entering the castle.

"Fine." Jaehaerys entered the Rock to find him after all; he did not plan to be a guest in the castle. "Lead the way, boy." He now traveled with two Unsullied and two knights. The rest of his men had gone to Lannisport; entering with such a large number of soldiers was impossible.

Jaehaerys walked through the damn maze for what seemed like hours. He could understand why it was such a complicated fortress to take, even with dragons.

If Jaehaerys had to take the castle... he wouldn't. He would melt every one of its entrances, leaving them no room to escape. Tywin had finished off the Reyne in much the same way.

Soon, after climbing the entire mountain, he reached Lord Tywin's manor. Two soldiers guarding outside looked at the prince's men with suspicion. The young squire knocked on the door, and a simple "Come in" was the reply.

Jaehaerys opened the door.

The office was quite spacious, with a vast window that allowed natural light to enter. The rest was upholstered in gold. Every armchair, bookshelf, desk, even the cups and jugs, were shining gold.

'Even Tywin's clothes have gold on them,' he thought, looking at the man.

Tywin hadn't turned to look at him. His head was bald, with only two horrible sideburns that Jaehaerys could only attribute to the man's desire to appear unpleasant.

Seeing Tywin's lack of desire to talk, a stupid need to control the conversation, Jaehaerys went to the bookshelves to take a book. Most of them were about finance. Although he found one on metallurgy, he took it to read. His reverberatory furnaces and blast furnaces were ready and had been tested before he left ArgentStone.

The prince read silently, sitting down in a padded chair near the window.

"Did you come for the gold?" asked Tywin Lannister.

Jaehaerys did not answer, simply turning the page. He had already read twenty pages before Tywin decided he was worthy of his time, and he would not interrupt his reading for the man. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Tywin, his face hard as stone.

Tywin continued to review and sign documents, trying to ignore the prince's indifference.

Meanwhile, Jaehaerys read the entire book. He didn't know how long it took him, probably an hour or two. It wasn't too long, and Jaehaerys was a reasonably fast reader.

The book didn't teach him much that was new, although it was pretty advanced for its time. He looked out the window and saw the sun beginning to set.

"I was hoping to find Jaime to offer my condolences on the death of his wife," said the prince. He meant it; Jaime was a man he respected to a certain extent.

Tywin hesitated for a moment, his pen still moving across the paper, but he knew that if he didn't answer now, the prince would probably leave.

"Lysa left a legacy to protect," Tywin said coldly.

"Ah, yes. Little Tommen had no noticeable Lannister features---a boy with reddish-brown hair and gray-green eyes. I remember Lord Coin's eyes were the same color," he said, watching Tywin tense for a second before ignoring his words.

Jaehaerys wanted to occupy Lord Lannister's mind with other things. But it seemed that Tywin knew how to discern the time and place for every action. He did not ask about Baelish, as many other lords might have done.

"A strong heir." Tywin lowered his pen to look at the prince.

"Of course." Jaehaerys had heard about the boy's frailty; some said he barely survived. "You wanted to talk, let's talk." He changed the subject with ease.

The prince left the book on the shelf before taking a seat in a neatly carved wooden chair in front of Tywin's desk. He found the seat uncomfortable. He got up and, pushing the chair aside, took the sofa he had been sitting on before and placed it in front of Tywin. The latter looked at him with dead eyes, without intervening.

"Lord Stark will arrive tomorrow," Tywin said as if that were all.

Jaehaerys found it curious how the man always seemed to speak with a period at the end of his sentences.

"Ah, yes, I have unfinished business with my adoptive father," the prince said, unconcerned.

"And with your bastard daughter," the man said bluntly.

"Yes, with my daughter, Rhaelle." He didn't like his daughter to be called a bastard. "I suppose I should thank you, because if it weren't for your warning, my daughter could have ended up in unwanted hands," Jaehaerys said, in a passive-aggressive tone.

"I have decided that Sansa will make a good wife for Tyrion," the man surprised Jaehaerys this time.

Jaehaerys had hoped that Sansa would be betrothed to Jaime, not counting his intervention, of course.

"I remember that Tyrion is married," the prince said. "A smallfolk girl named Tysha," he said, looking the man straight in the eye. Tywin held his gaze, only raising his nose slightly in the air.

"An opportunist who took advantage of a fool," Tywin said.

"A marriage in the eyes of the gods does not discriminate between commoners and lords," the prince expressed, enjoying Tywin's face. The man was much better than he had expected.

Jaehaerys had heard of the girl in his previous life and in this one. In his last life, Tywin had had a group of soldiers rape her in front of Tyrion, making her pass for a prostitute hired by Jaime to deflower the imp. In the end, Tyrion left a gold coin for the woman before being the last man to rape her.

In this world, Tywin's hand had been stopped by the kinder Joanna Lannister, who was still alive.

The woman ordered the girl to be whipped twenty times before expelling her from Westeros, and no one knows the woman's fate. Joanna might seem like a pleasant woman at first glance, but she was as ruthless as Tywin when necessary.

When Cersei and Jaime were discovered practicing incest as children, a maid discovered them and notified Lady Joanna. The maid died on the orders of the lady of Casterly Rock.

"An invalid marriage. I made sure of that." Tywin had hidden that story too well, although he was not too surprised that the prince knew about it.

"I don't care. After all, it's not just what you, Mighty Tywin, want; Lord Stark's opinion matters more than yours," the prince said. "Although I must admit I expected us to talk about other things, not like gossiping ladies talking about marriages and nonsense of that sort." The prince leaned back in his chair.

"Sansa's impending union with Tyrion comes with a small problem," Tywin continued.

"Ah... if it has many problems, it shouldn't happen at all." Jaehaerys shrugged.

"Rhaelle Snow will be raised at Casterly Rock. The king has already given his consent. So as not to dishonor my son, your offspring will be given the Targaryen surname and the right to inherit a dragon egg," Tywin said expressionlessly.

"Ah... no. My daughter will be raised at ArgentStone. After I speak with Lord Stark, I will leave with her." He did not include Sansa among the people he would take with him, although he did not plan to take her away from his daughter.

"It is cruel to take a mother away from her daughter," Tywin had a feeble grasp of morality.

"Cruel? Coming from the one who paid every bard to sing 'The Rains of Castamere,' that's quite surprising." Jaehaerys stood up. "The sun is setting, and I need to leave. My men must have already found a suitable mansion to keep my men and Serena, as my ward must remain by my side," he said. Tywin did not seem at all surprised.

"You'd better leave as soon as possible. The roads from Casterly Rock tend to become dangerous at night," Tywin said with a hint of anger. He lit a candle, illuminating his desk, and picked up a quill.

"Ah... that's just your inability to keep your castle safe. I can defend myself well because I know incompetent men like you exist," Jaehaerys scoffed. "I hope there are no problems during the tournament," he said, looking down at the man. "My daughter... if you touch her, I will end your lineage."

Jaehaerys walked away, hearing the pen in Mighty Tywin's hands break.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Jaehaerys walked away. His men had secured a spacious mansion in Lannisport. He had organized his men's watches and assigned rooms for Serena and her sisters, Tyene and Sarella, who had decided to accompany her. Honestly, Jaehaerys wasn't too thrilled about having to keep Tyene out of his bed.

His mind drifted to his conversation with Tywin.

"Tyrion and not Jaime?" In a way, it made sense.

Sansa was a disgraced woman with few prospects. A marriage to a second son of a great house was a blessing for her. But Jaehaerys wasn't sure Eddard Stark would agree to such a marriage.

"He wants me to let my guard down," Jaehaerys sighed as he calmed himself.

If he considered Tyrion to be Sansa's husband, he could relax and hope that Ned would not accept. But if it was Jaime, it was much more likely that Eddard would accept. A stupid deception. It would not affect Jaehaerys much; after all, he was going to offer the same thing to the North, regardless of who Sansa's possible husband was.

Ned rode a gray horse. His furs clung to his sweat-covered body. Despite having spent part of his youth in the South, his body was suited for the intense cold of the North.

He had traveled north with three of his children, Sansa, Arya, and Bran. Robb, Rickon, and Catelyn remained in the North. Rickon was too young to be separated from his mother, while Catelyn's pregnancy made it difficult for her to travel. Robb ruled Winterfell on her behalf.

Upon arriving at Casterly Rock, he received two invitations.

One was from Tywin Lannister, and the other was from Jaehaerys.

Tywin was the lord of the territory where he was, so he attended a meeting with him first. He did not like the man; he had turned the Trident into a slaughterhouse. Even when men knelt and begged for mercy, he gave the order to kill.

While he was on his way to meet Lord Lannister, his children went to explore Lannisport. They should be back before nightfall. The Stark family had been invited to stay at the castle.

Ned had doubts about the marriage between Sansa and Jaime. After all, Jaime had been raised by Tywin.

When he entered the office, he had eyes for nothing but Tywin Lannister. He had aged since the last time he met him, but he remained strong, or at least appeared to.

"Lord Lannister," he greeted him as he entered.

"Lord Stark," the man gestured to the only chair in the room besides the one Tywin himself occupied.

Eddard sat down and waited while Tywin wrote on a parchment. These were painful minutes for Lord Stark.

Eddard did not say a single word before getting up and leaving, furious. Jory Cassel was waiting for him outside the room. He asked a man to guide them out of the castle. He heard Tywin speaking, but ignored him.

Tywin had ignored tradition by not personally meeting Lord Stark at the entrance to his castle. It had been Tywin's brother, Kevan, who greeted him and offered him guest rights.

He was the guardian of the north, a Stark; his lineage had ruled for over 8,000 years. For Tywin to think he could snub him was foolish.

He left Casterly Rock, dizzy from the passages, and had to travel on horseback to Lannisport. Ned thought he could finally get away from all the golden glitz, but that was not to be. Lannisport seemed awash in gold.

He found Sansa, Arya, and Bran in a market. Sansa had her daughter in her arms, while the baby reached out her hands toward a purple cloth. Eddard had forbidden her to be too intimate with the child in public, but his daughter ignored him. Catelyn once told him that a mother's love for her children could not be controlled.

After confirming that his children were well, he ordered his men to find a place to stay.

"The prince has secured a mansion for you, Lord Stark," said a thin man wearing leather armor and carrying a spear.

"Jaehaerys?" The prince had sent one of his men, Brandon Snow, to invite him to his mansion. Many lords might be offended by being addressed by a bastard, but Eddard knew very well that Brandon was Jaehaerys's right hand.

Brandon left with the promise that Ned would go to the prince's mansion later. Jaehaerys wanted to discuss matters related to the North.

"Jon, come with me," he ordered. Greatjon Umber was the best warrior in the North. Or he would be second best, if you counted Daemon, who arrived a while ago.

"You want to beat up the prince? Of course, I'll help you," the huge man said as he followed him. He didn't care how the man leading them tightened his grip on his spear.

"Do you want the rest of your family to be taken to the mansion prepared by the prince?" Eddard listened to the man and hesitated. He didn't live on charity.

"Do it; my men will accompany you." Eddard watched as another man, just as thin and dressed in the same way, led his men and family away.

If any lord had offered him lodging, he would not have hesitated to refuse, but Jaehaerys was a good man. Eddard knew he would not harm his family.

Jaehaerys finally had Lord Stark in front of him. He greeted him outside the leased mansion---a giant beside the wolf and a handful of men behind them.

"It's been a long time, Lord Stark," he greeted awkwardly. He had left Winterfell almost 17 moons ago. More than a year. His daughter should now be 7 months old.

"A shameless brat," said the GreatJon.

"Ah, Lord Umber, I remember your face buried in the snow and your ass in the air... no one took advantage of you, did they?" Jaehaerys had a good-bad relationship with the man. They fought once, then after Jon was beaten, he wanted to drink with the prince. Once sober, the Umber didn't talk to him again.

Jon looked at him with a mixture of anger and respect. He was a man who followed strength, but he had a natural dislike for the Targaryens.

"Enough, Jon," Eddard said. "We have much to discuss." Jaehaerys nodded.

"Let's go inside." He gestured toward the house.

It was luxurious and gilded; Jaehaerys could not describe anything in Lannisport that was not that way. The prince led Lord Stark to his temporal Solar. Only the prince and Eddard entered; Jon went to a small training ground to beat up the prince's men.

"I hear you agreed to stay in the mansion I prepared," the prince said.

"I haven't fully agreed yet," Eddard said, uncomfortable.

Jaehaerys had expected Ned to lunge at him with Ice in his hand. When he arrived with Greatjon, he had expected a fight. But it didn't happen.

"I would like my daughter to be safe," said the prince.

"Your daughter," Lord Stark showed the first flash of anger. Anger that quickly faded. "Rhaelle Snow," he said the name softly.

"Rhaelle..." Jae repeated, honey in his voice. "I'll be brief. I want both Sansa and Rhaelle to live at ArgentStone," Eddard appreciated directness, having raised him, he knew him well.

"What do you want?" Eddard asked angrily. "A mistress? A trophy?"

"I want my daughter in my house, and I don't want Sansa to live in a place where she will be dishonored and mistreated because of my mistakes," said the prince sincerely.

"Mistakes?"

"My mistake... my romance with your daughter should not have happened. If I could go back in time, I would change things. But I can't," he said, even though, ironically, he traveled between worlds. "Sansa will not have a happy marriage, not the one she deserves," he added at the end.

"Thanks to you," Eddard said.

"Yes, thanks to me. That's why I want her to live in---"

"On your lands, in your castle, do you want her to share your bed? Do you want to give Daenerys a toy to vent her anger?" Eddard said.

"Sansa will come to no harm. From anyone, including Daenerys," the prince promised.

"You put me in a difficult position. Sansa would agree," Ned confessed, knowing his daughter's wishes. "But the North would not. In their eyes, you are a stranger who came and plucked the most beautiful flower in the North and then threw it away."

"Your words are not as hateful as I expected," Eddard sighed heavily.

"Ashara... I feel that the gods sent you to punish me," said Lord Stark as Jaehaerys nodded.

Ned was not a hypocrite. Could he hate a man for doing the same thing he did?

"The gods work in strange ways, Lord Stark," Jaehaerys said. "I will never touch Sansa again. She is my daughter's mother. I will protect her with my life and give her everything she asks for," he said, repeating what he had already promised.

"The North remembers," Ned said, not referring to him, but his brother.

"I want the North to remember this." Jaehaerys handed him a sheet of paper.

"Wheat harvested per acre before the improvement: 1,500 pounds in five moons. Wheat harvested per acre after the improvement: 4,500 pounds in two moons." Eddard looked at the detailed document, but his eyes quickly turned to the underlined part. "Improvement?"

"Yes. I tried it on my land before. On a small scale, of course. Before, each acre produced between 1,400 and 1,600 pounds of wheat. I used a method to improve production. The results: more than three times the harvest, and the time was cut in half." That method was, of course, the use of runes.

"And you want...?" Eddard found it difficult to ask.

"I can turn barren land into fertile land. I can't promise that the lands in the North will have this yield, but it will greatly increase what you already have," Jaehaerys said.

The prince knew that he had to convince not only Eddard, but also the North. Otherwise, his reputation would be the same as Rhaegar's, who took a woman from the North and then killed her lord and heir.

The crops would help the North. Some considered it foolish, and Jaehaerys might agree. He would not give them the method, nor the runes; he would carve them and install them. The Starks would have land to harvest, and he would have his daughter home.

"This is... how can I be sure you are telling the truth?" asked Eddard.

"I swear. I swear in the name of my daughter," said the prince, as he waited for Lord Stark's response.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"Do you know that kicking a prince could get you in trouble, Arya?" Jaehaerys said to the brat who was kicking his shin hard. The girl was undoubtedly looking to vent her anger on behalf of her sister.

"Stay away from Rhaelle, you idiot," she said as she threw a punch at the prince's groin.

Jaehaerys stopped her fist in its tracks. Blows to any other part of his body could be ignored, but not that one.

"She's my daughter. I... want to see her," he said.

He had come from his mansion to the Starks' to see his daughter for the first time. Eddard hadn't accepted the deal yet, held back by a bit of pride or political fear. If he did not, Jaehaerys might have to involve the dragons. It was a resource he did not want to exploit to intimidate others.

He could take Rhaelle without any problem, but not Sansa.

"You can't, she... doesn't want to see you," Arya said, pulling a sharp piece of metal from a sheath hanging at her waist.

'Needle,' thought the prince. In the Arya canon, the girl with dark brown hair, gray eyes, and an elongated face had received a sword from her brother, Jon Snow. In this world, it had probably been a gift from Daemon, which surprised Jaehaerys. Arya was everything Daemon hated in a woman: wild, loud, and defiant.

"Did a baby tell you that?" he asked, stopping the needle between his fingers, watching the guards tense up, both the dragons and the wolves. A look silenced both sides.

"Sansa doesn't want to see you looking foolish. She's asleep," she continued, not allowing him to enter the room. "Let go of it or I'll hurt you," she said as she tugged at the sword.

"Do you even know how to use it?" he asked.

"Just stick the pointy end in," said the girl as she struggled.

"Those are the basics," said Jaehaerys as he wrenched the sword from her hands. "I'll keep it for now. You're a danger with it. If you were another lord, you could be in trouble," he told her.

"But you're not a complete idiot," she replied, stroking his palm.

"Oh, no?" Jaehaerys smiled.

"You're an idiot, not a complete one, just a part of one. You're worse than an idiot," she said in defense.

"Sure, little wolf." Jaehaerys opened the door slowly, making sure it didn't creak. He didn't want to startle anyone.

"High in the halls of the kings who are gone," he heard a sweet voice sing.

"Jenny would dance with her ghosts," Sansa sang, melancholic.

"The ones she had lost and the ones she had found," the redhead smiled, moving the little girl's hand as she sang.

"And the ones

Who had loved her the most," she finished, looking in his direction out of the corner of her eye.

"Jenny of Oldstones," Jaehaerys said.

Sansa's eyes narrowed as she turned her back on him. Jaehaerys entered the room.

"Leave it open, idiot!" he heard Arya say before closing the door.

He walked over to the crib containing his daughter and looked at the girl's face. Sansa didn't say a word, nor did Jaehaerys; he just watched her. She looked just as beautiful as the last time he saw her. But she also seemed more mature. She no longer smiled dreamily at him; she bit her lip as if expecting bad news.

Her blue eyes were the same as when he left Winterfell, sad and filled with tears.

"Rhaelle," he said, looking at the cradle for the first time. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt as if his chest were about to explode.

It was a strange mixture of fear and happiness. Like standing on top of a tower and looking down, Jaehaerys believed it would be pretty similar to riding a dragon.

His daughter was beautiful, and although they say that about all babies, his really was. She had white hair with patches of copper. She was lovely, the most precious thing Jaehaerys had ever seen in his life.

Her eyes were indigo, a color between blue and purple that could change with the lighting.

Jaehaerys let his finger caress her belly, tickling her. Then he watched her smile, her little teeth peeking out.

Sansa stood up and, with a gentle movement, picked up the girl. He grimaced, thinking she didn't want him too close to her daughter. Then he panicked when she put the baby in his arms.

"Wait, I can't," he tried to protest, afraid of hurting the baby.

One of the disadvantages of having a strong physique was that, with a bit of carelessness, he could easily destroy fragile things. And at that moment, the last thing he wanted was to cause any harm to the little girl. Jaehaerys heard a little giggle from Sansa, as if she enjoyed seeing him suffer. Or as if she enjoyed seeing the father with his daughter.

"Put your hand behind her neck, don't let her get uncomfortable." Jaehaerys obeyed with clinical precision; she was the expert who had cared for her for almost seven moons.

"She feels so fragile," the prince commented, doing his best not to apply force to his arms.

"She's strong; she's your daughter," Sansa said. That sentence touched his heart.

Jaehaerys watched as the white cloth covering the baby darkened, drops of water falling on it. He shifted position and looked up at the ceiling, expecting to see a leak. But he found nothing there. When he looked back at his daughter, the drops continued to fall. He frowned.

Sansa's hands caressed his face, and Jaehaerys felt the moisture on his own cheeks.

It was the first time in his life that he had cried for something other than physical pain. He felt Sansa's hand gently guide him to a seat. He held his daughter tightly, lest he make a sudden movement and drop her on the floor.

Once seated, he released the breath he didn't know he was holding. He felt Sansa's weight settle on his shoulder, a position so intimate that he should not have allowed it out of respect for Daenerys.

He rocked the little girl for several minutes, watching as her expression gradually became sleepy until she fell asleep. Sansa got up, took the little girl from his arms, and then returned her to her crib.

"Do you promise to take care of her once you take her to ArgentStone?" Sansa asked quietly, gesturing for him to lower his voice as well.

"Yes, I promise," said the prince. He didn't need Sansa to ask him; from the moment he held her in his arms, he was willing to burn castles in her name. "I also promised to protect you, Sansa," he said. She opened her eyes, as if she hadn't expected it.

Sansa had not harbored much hope.

When she thought about marrying Lord Frey, she could be sure that Jaehaerys would not have hesitated to come for her, burn the Twins, and take her with him. Even then, her confidence came from her innocence.

When her father mentioned Lord Jaime, her hopes in Jaehaerys died a little. Her father would accept the marriage if he found Lord Jaime to be a good man and if favorable treaties were signed for the North. After all, the Lannisters were the most powerful family after the Targaryens. However, malicious tongues whispered that lions ruled even over dragons.

With Walder, if Jaehaerys did not go for her, she could leave her daughter in her father's care and then throw herself from the highest tower. But with the Lannisters? Doing such a thing could mean war between the Starks and the Lannisters.

It wasn't just that she died in the Lannisters' care; it could make the lions the suspects. Otherwise, you could say she committed suicide, but that would leave a significant mark on her father and, perhaps, on Jaehaerys.

She had remained uncertain until then, not knowing what to do, which path to take. Jaehaerys intimidating Lord Frey was one thing; most in Westeros hated him, but Lord Jaime? He was respected by many, who saw him as just as capable as his father, though without his father's cruelty.

She had even heard that Lord Jaime and Jaehaerys were on friendly terms.

"Father said Jaime might become---" she began.

"He might... if I hadn't come," the prince said. "But I did come," he continued.

Her mother, Catelyn, said she had changed since Rhaelle was born and that, when that happened, she would stop seeing Jaehaerys as the "idealized prince" she thought he was.

But her mother was wrong. Sansa could perfectly remember the man she had fallen in love with. That man who, she didn't know how, managed to snatch her from the jaws of lions.

It seemed that Jaehaerys had also matured.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

The royal family arrived three days after the Stark family, a week before the tournament began. Lannisport was becoming even more bustling. Lord Stark was grateful to see a little more color than golden heads.

"And you will accept, Ned?" asked Greatjon Umber at his side. He was someone who had earned the right to call him Ned.

Ned had told him about the prince's plans, about his offer. He would have consulted with other men from the North, but not many had come south. Only Lord Manderly had agreed to come, but he would probably arrive shortly before the tournament; the others were busy preparing for winter.

"If what he says is true, the North will not suffer so much." Eddard could not consider only Sansa's happiness; after all, he was more than a father, he was the lord of the largest kingdom in all of Westeros.

"It's true, Ned," said Greatjon. "The boy may be shameless, but he's not a liar," he finished bitterly.

"I thought you disliked him," Ned inquired.

"I do dislike him, but it's more because of the color of his eyes and hair," Lord Umber admitted. "He's sincere. He once promised he could leave me with my face buried in the snow and my ass exposed for all to see. A braggart, I thought. But he did it, Ned, he did it. If he says he can increase the harvests in the North, I believe him." Umber was a simple man. It was enough for him to see a person's actions to judge them.

Ned closed his eyes and thought. He could wait until he reached the North to make a decision, but Sansa's fate depended on that decision. If he accepted, she would leave with the prince for ArgentStone and probably never have a husband.

Sansa had been raised as a lady. She wanted a large family, many strong sons, and perfect daughters who would be the envy of princesses and queens. Going to ArgentStone would take that dream away from her.

On the other hand, since the prince had become more involved in the baby's life, Sansa seemed radiant. She had lost some of her sparkle when Jaehaerys left Winterfell, but she quickly regained it when he was near.

"Lord Stark," he heard a voice behind him. The voice sounded older and worn, but he would never forget the voice of a man like Ser Arthur Dayne. "The king requests your presence," said the white cloak.

Ned looked at him. Ser Arthur's face looked tired and fragile, like that of an old man tired of living. That surprised him; he had once been a man who exuded chivalry from every pore of his skin. What had happened to him?

"I assume the King resides at Casterly Rock, Ser Arthur?" he asked, not knowing the whereabouts of the royal family.

"Yes, I was sent to escort you there," said the knight.

"Too much steel for a short trip," Greatjon interjected, looking at the scabbard at Arthur's waist. Dawn was sheathed.

Arthur didn't even look at the giant man.

"Lead the way, Arthur." Ned gave Jon a warning look as he began to follow him. "Don't start any trouble," he said with his eyes.

As unpleasant as it was to look at the prince. No, not Prince, but King Rhaegar, he had to do it. He had already sworn his allegiance to the man, and he was not a man who broke his oaths.

Eddard was annoyed at having to move from Lannisport to the damn maze that was Casterly Rock. Many applauded the beautiful views, but for him, it was just a nightmare. A golden nightmare.

He was taken to a different room than Tywin's Keep. He recognized it simply because the door was simpler.

Rhaegar was there, sitting, with that melancholy look that drove maidens mad years ago. The same look that Lyanna fell for.

Ned had spent a lot of time thinking about his sister. A girl who fell in love and made the kingdom bleed. His father and brother were victims of that love. He didn't know if the price was worth it.

Eddard could never hate his sister; she was his blood. But he couldn't forgive her for what she did either.

"Lord Stark, I am glad you answered my call," said the king. They were alone; only Arthur and Jon had entered with Ned.

"It was the king's call," Ned said. If it hadn't been a royal command, he wouldn't have cared at all.

"Yes... I hear Catelyn is pregnant again. Will it be the fifth?" The king tried to make small talk.

"Sixth," Eddard said brusquely.

He didn't care that Rhaegar didn't know the family tree of one of the Guardians of Westeros; he didn't want to waste time on useless conversation.

"It has always embittered my heart that the relationship between the North and the South is so... broken," said the king.

"Much blood has been spilled, and wounds take time to heal," Eddard said.

Saying that wounds take time did not mean that Rhaegar could heal them. Lord Stark meant that one of the king's descendants might have a good relationship with the North decades later, when the hatred was not so fresh in everyone's memory. He only thought that because of Jaehaerys.

"That is why I want to bring my vassals closer together," began the king, looking Eddard straight in the eye. "Jaime is the father of the future queen of Westeros. His hand is envied by many maidens in Westeros," the king began.

"I'm sure the tournament will help him find a good wife," Ned said. He didn't consider Jaime an evil man. He had known him when he was young. He was torn between his vows to protect the king and his desire to kill him.

Jaime couldn't choose. Rhaegar dethroned his father and sent him to the Wall, where he remains to this day.

"Sansa is a beautiful... woman." The king did not say maiden intentionally; after all, having a daughter proved that she was not. "Jaime is a widower, willing to give a bastard a proper upbringing." Rhaegar sold the man as an excellent prospect.

Eddard began to feel disgust for Jaime just for that.

"Sansa's fate is not decided. Jaime is one option, but not the only one." Ned looked into the king's eyes.

"What other option?" asked the king.

"Jaehaerys has requested an agreement to take Sansa with him. So far, I am inclined to accept," he told the king.

"I see. I shouldn't be surprised. If there is anything that can surpass a Lannister's offer, it must be dragons," Rhaegar said, his gaze unfocused.

"It has nothing to do with dragons." Eddard had not even asked about them. He did not plan to go to war anytime soon.

"I am sure, Lord Stark," the king said dryly. "I will not waste any more of your time," he dismissed him.

Eddard took the opportunity to leave with GreatJon.

"Arthur... do you think you can kill Jaehaerys?" the king asked his loyal white cloak.

Arthur looked at a cup on the table. The gold looked worn, and he was surprised to find such a cup among the king's belongings.

"No. I think I'll die if I fight him," admitted the knight. "Do you want me to try, my king?" he asked, perhaps a hint of longing in his words.

"Eventually... my brother has committed crimes... like bringing slaves to Westeros. I think he needs to pay for them, don't you think?" said the king.

Rhaegar hoped to see Jaehaerys participate in the tournament. Then he could kill him. After all, no man could guarantee survival in there, no matter how skilled he was.

But his younger brother had expressed no desire to participate. It seemed he wanted to agree with Lord Stark.

Rhaegar could not allow such a thing. His brother was not in his castle; he was in a foreign place, without all his men, without his dragons. It was a moment like no other to strike hard.

"Everyone must answer to the king," said Arthur, and Rhaegar nodded.

Rhaegar could not act on his own, after all, he had denied that his brother bringing slaves was a crime; it was best to have a third party accuse Jaehaerys. Better than one lord, it would be several of them. He had heard that Lord Lydden had arrived at Casterly Rock, saying that the prince had defeated a group of bandits who now resided in Deep Den Castle.

'I have a few pieces... I had better use them well.'

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Jaehaerys stood in front of his brother and a group of lords who looked at him with fear, contempt, and pity. He should have seen it coming. Tywin wanted two things: to control his daughter or to kill him during the tournament. So far, he had achieved neither; he would have to solve the problem another way.

"Are you sure of your words, Lord Lydden?" asked the prince.

Among the audience were Jaime, Tyrion, and Tywin; Tywin's wife was with the Queen Mother, Rhaella, elsewhere. From House Targaryen, only the king and his heir, Aegon, were present. Cersei and Oberyn were there, the former watching the prince as if he had won a prize. Serena was with them, trying to keep as much distance as possible between herself and her brother.

The lord who had given him asylum and to whom he had entrusted the prisoners pointed at him as if he were the most horrible person ever to set foot in Westeros.

"Yes, the prince arrived and killed dozens of men who were patrolling my lands," said the man angrily, his broken voice betraying his lies.

"Did you send those men to attack me, Lord Lydden?" Jaehaerys shook his head. The poor man had sweat dripping from his forehead as if he were in a sauna.

"The men were patrolling my lands, good men, whom you murdered!" The man glanced sideways at Tywin Lannister.

"What a fucking farce," the prince muttered in annoyance.

"Besides, the prince has brought slaves from another continent!" said another man.

"Slavery is forbidden in Westeros," muttered one of the lords in the room.

They appeared to be involved in foul play, feigning surprise and anger. 'This was actually Tywin's idea?'

"So much hatred and desire for justice," Jaehaerys scoffed. "Why didn't you come to my castle to complain? I would have listened to you and taken your words into account," the voices did not echo again.

The men had heard of dragons and ghosts. Only fools would seek death by confronting the prince on his own lands. Although, despite having heard of dragons, they did not remember how hot their flames were.

"Murder and slavery," said Lord Tywin. "How do you plead?"

"I am as innocent of murder as you are of exterminating House Reyne," said the prince. Tywin's face remained impassive, but he could see Tyrion Lannister shifting in his seat. He didn't know if he was uncomfortable or enjoying the spectacle.

"And the slaves?" asked Tywin.

"They have been freed. Dozens of them asked for help to return to their homes, and I granted it," he said sincerely. He was not guilty of anything.

"My men were murdered!" Lord Lydden continued, just as the entire room began to look to see where the verdict would fall.

"The word of a prince against the word of a lord. Every time you open your mouth, you tarnish my name. The name of the Targaryen family," Jaehaerys used his family as a shield.

The man looked at the king, who remained neutral in the whole affair. The king said nothing, only looked at his brother.

"I spoke of justice," the little Lydden man said, lowering his tone. His words were beginning to lack weight.

It didn't matter how clear the lack of substance in Lord Lydden's words became to everyone. The matter would remain unresolved. A fight, they wanted him to ask for a trial by combat. But do they really have a champion strong enough to face him?

"You speak lies," another voice interjected this time.

Jaehaerys watched Tywin's face wrinkle slightly in a grimace of disgust.

"Do not speak out of turn, Princess Serena Nymeros Martell," Tywin scrutinized her with his gaze, and the girl cringed in her place, finding an incredible resemblance between Tywin's eyes and Joffrey's.

"I remember the men charging at us. I was part of the group. I could have died that day. I didn't know who those men belonged to, but Lord Lydden has already pleaded guilty; he attacked your granddaughter. Why isn't he in chains?" the girl continued, watching the little lord's face transform into despair.

"Serena, come here," Cersei identified her father's bitterness and moved to control her daughter.

"I almost died, Mother!" said the princess. "But you don't care about that, do you?" she almost shouted in front of everyone. "You didn't care when Joffrey---" The princess's face turned ninety degrees to the right.

"Those are private matters," Cersei began to drag her out of the room, after she slapped her. "Sandor, get her out of here," she ordered the dog.

"No," said Prince Oberyn as he approached. "What did Joffrey do?" he asked his daughter as he caressed her cheek, where it was beginning to swell. He looked at his wife with a hint of anger.

The room held its breath; they had come initially to judge the prince, but the situation had shifted too quickly. Now, everyone wanted to know what secret the princess of Dorne was keeping, and that her mother wanted to prevent from coming to light.

"He-he..." Jaehaerys felt bad seeing the princess stammer as she searched for the words. Serana's black eyes met Jae's purple ones, and she found her courage. "He raped me," she whispered. "Mother knew it, she ordered me to stay silent, she said I would destroy Joffrey's life if I talked."

Jaehaerys couldn't see Oberyn's reaction, but he seemed to tremble and curl up, like a snake about to strike. He didn't utter a word.

"Lies!" Cersei shouted, panicked. "It was Jaehaerys who ordered you to say that, wasn't it?" she asked her daughter softly. "There's nothing to fear; he can't hurt you." She tried to caress her daughter, but the girl recoiled in disgust.

"He saved my life," Serena said, not to Cersei, but to Oberyn.

"Enough!" roared the lion of Casterly Rock. "Everyone except House Lannister and Targaryen, leave!" Disappointment and anger were palpable on his face, not toward Serena, but toward Joffrey, whom he glared at furiously. If Oberyn didn't kill his son, Tywin might well do it himself.

The lords quickly left the room. None questioned how Tywin seemed to act more like the king than Rhaegar himself.

"Help!" Joffrey cried as he fell backward. "Damn bastard bitch," he yelled at Obara, who had attacked him with a dagger, a red line opening up on his chest. If it weren't for Sandor's quick movement, the dagger would have ended up embedded in his heart.

"Get her! What are you waiting for?" The Lannister men moved toward Oberyn's bastard daughter.

"Touch my daughter, and I'll kill you," said Oberyn, who continued to stroke Serena's head.

When he said that sentence, he looked directly at Joffrey, who broke out in a cold sweat.

"Get Joffrey out of here and confine him to his chambers," Tywin ordered.

"Yes... Protect him," Serena said wearily. She watched as the men who had been trying to capture her sister turned to Joffrey and took him out of the room.

"Joffrey didn't do anything. It was all Jaehaerys' fault! He was the one who forced me to send Serena to his cursed castle. Oberyn, he threatened me, said he would kill Joffrey if I didn't do as he ordered. I swear to you, I swear by our children," Cersei lunged at her husband, who remained still.

"Serena didn't lie," Oberyn said. "I remember when she was little and didn't want to behave like a lady; every time she wanted to confront you and tell you she didn't want to sew or paint, she would look at me, seeking the courage to tell the truth. She did the same thing today, but she didn't look at me; she looked at the prince," he continued with pain. Oberyn felt like he had lost his daughter's confidence.

"The truth is uncertain. A child's behavior is not reflected in adulthood," interjected the king, Rhaegar. "We need to get to the truth," he said, looking at Jaehaerys. "Did you order her to lie?"

"I can't order him to do anything," said the prince. "Although I indeed threatened Cersei with killing Joffrey if he continued to rape other women. I hope he stopped, it will be a shame for him to die," he confessed, looking at the woman who turned pale.

"I'll take care of Joffrey, stay out of it," Oberyn said sharply.

"You can't believe your son would be capable of such barbarity. You raised him, you made him a formidable warrior," Cersei reproached her husband.

"And a horrible man," Oberyn clicked his tongue. "We don't hurt little girls in Dorne, even less our family."

"It's Tywin's daughter's word against the prince's," Rhaegar said. "A greater trial will be needed," he continued.

"I demand a trial by combat," the prince said. "I will defend my word or that of Princess Serena," Tywin's face soured.

"Wielding a weapon like a barbarian is not what makes us noble, brother, you should know that by now. You can't end every trial that way," Rhaegar said. "Everyone knows your strength. The nobles will not accept it as valid unless it is a trial by seven and---"

"Then let it be a trial by seven," the prince said wearily. Walking toward the exit. They had no one who could win in a single duel, but seven men... they didn't have seven who could win either... they had been so delusional. "Choose the date," the guards looked at Tywin as he approached the great doors. They opened them afterward. "Serena, are you coming?" he asked his ward.

"Yes," she replied.

"Stay away from my daughter, you bastard!" Cersei shouted.

"Go, Serena," Oberyn said. "Tyene, Sarella, go too, protect your sister." 'As his father couldn't,' he added in his mind. The Red Viper's voice was silky and broken.

"Oberyn!" Cersei complained.

"I need to talk to our son," he said. He walked toward Jaehaerys.

The two princes glanced at each other; neither said a word before Oberyn sought out his eldest son's chambers, ignoring the desperate cries of Cersei, who Sandor held back on the orders of her father, Tywin.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"You didn't have to do that, you know?" Jaehaerys said to the princess.

He wasn't terrified of the trial; he could always request a trial by combat, just as he ended up having to fight in the end. It was foolish, really; Rhaegar was looking for any excuse to screw him over.

"I already did it, what does it matter if I had to or not?" the girl snorted, trying to downplay it.

"Today I will receive Lord Stark's answer. After the trial, we can return to ArgentStone, unless your father has other plans for you," said the prince, sensing the princess's anxiety.

"I don't care about the drama; Grandfather will save Joffrey; he'll live, probably in exile," she shrugged. "I'll find him eventually," she whispered at last.

Jaehaerys was not so sure about Tywin wanting to save Joffrey's life. He wasn't soft-hearted; if he needed to cut his family tree, he would do it.

"And the looks, what do you think of them?" he asked her. On the way, they had encountered many lords looking at the princess with pity. One or two ladies even covered their mouths as they stifled sobs.

"I don't care, there are no looks like that in your castle," she said sharply. Her sisters walked behind them in silence.

"Did you allow that, Cersei?" Tywin asked, without shouting, without making a scene; it was that low voice, but it contained everything but calm.

"That's a lie!"

"Your offspring's eyes screamed his guilt; don't take me for a fool!" Jaime and Tyrion were there, watching---one with disappointment and the other with amusement.

"They... Serena and Joffrey loved each other. It was Jaehaerys who intervened; they would have been happy together," Cersei began to rave, making up nonsense---a desperate woman.

"Lannister!" said Tywin. "What does that name mean to you?"

"It reminds me that we are superior to others." She said, her head high, "What does the opinion of sheep matter to a lion?" she replied proudly.

"Lannister... is legacy, now tarnished by your stupidity. Perhaps I should have sent you to become a Septa instead of marrying in Dorne," said the older man.

"It wasn't my fault, Father," she whispered, as if begging for mercy.

"You saw it and allowed it. At first, I didn't understand Serena's reluctance to discuss the prince in detail. But now it's all clear. She hates you and, therefore, she hates us," Tyrion interjected thoughtfully.

"She doesn't hate me," Cersei bristled at his words.

Tyrion seemed to want to say something else, but his father silenced him with a glance. He shrank into his seat; despite everything, he respected the older man. He feared him even more.

"You will remain on the rock from now on. Serena condemned the act in public, so even if she refuses, the voices will continue to scream. An, no. I don't care about the sheep's voices, but the Dragon's." Tywin told Cersei, like a father sending his daughter to reflect in the corner. Rhaegar is unhappy with the marriage between Aegon and Myrcella, and he sees this as an opportunity. 'No... Rhaegar is too cowardly.'

"What will happen to Joffrey?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

"We should hang him and completely disown him from our house," said an angry voice at the door. Joanna strode in. "I heard everything, the damn voices are screaming it everywhere," Joanna looked at Cersei in disbelief. "You knew? And you allowed it?"

"It's a lie, they... they loved each other," she tried to justify Joffrey.

"Cersei, even though you've been away from me for so long, I still know perfectly well when you're lying to me. Your own daughter... why? If anyone had laid a finger on you, I would have thrown him into the sea in a lead suit of armor, melted with their flesh," Joanna asked with anger and sadness.

Cersei shut her mouth. No matter what she said, no one seemed willing to defend Joffrey.

"Joffrey will be judged," Tywin decreed.

"No, not him, Father, please. He's your grandson; he is a kid." Cersei fell to her knees as she pleaded.

"He's a plague, one I must clean up quickly. I don't want him to end up affecting everything else," her father said, ignoring even his daughter's tears. Joffrey had been considered a possible heir to the Rock if Jaime had no male heir, but at that moment, it was no longer necessary.

He had an heir. "I remember Lord Coin's eyes were the same color," the prince's words echoed in his head. Would Lysa have been capable of bearing another man's child? He didn't know, but from that moment on, he couldn't see any resemblance between Jaime and the baby.

"And the prince's trial? There's a chance the prince will lose against seven men in battle. I'm sure the king will provide his own if necessary," Jaime said.

"And if Jaehaerys wins, we Lannisters will lose twice. First, by defending a rapist, one who went against his own blood, no less. Second, in a trial. I don't think Jaehaerys is kind enough to spare the lives of the seven warriors," Tyrion interjected. "Who would the king send, his royal guard? It's unlikely he'd risk losing them. I don't think there's anyone besides the Sword of the Morning who could stand up to the prince," he narrowed his eyes as he thought. "Not even you, brother," he silenced Jaime when he opened his mouth. "Jaime, don't you feel repulsed when you think of Joffrey?" Tyrion thought of poor Serena. If anyone deserved what happened to her, it wasn't her; it was Cersei.

Jaime remained silent. "He's a Lannister... we protect our own."

"We're protecting Serena," Tywin said, as an excuse. He was really looking to protect his reputation.

"Even so, the king seems to want a trial," Tyrion added.

"It doesn't matter what the king wants," said Tywin, walking away angrily, his feet pounding the floor, the echoing noise mingling with Cersei's sobs.

"If Joffrey admits his crimes, he will be sent to the Wall, a fitting fate for him," said Tyrion.

"HE IS NOT GUILTY!" Cersei shouted for the umpteenth time. Saliva flew grotesquely from her mouth, her bloodshot eyes touching Joanna's heart.

"Otherwise, he will die," said Tywin's wife.

"If Prince Oberyn hasn't killed him already," said Tyrion, grimacing, not wanting to sound happy.

Cersei screamed as she rushed to her son's chambers. This time, there was no Sandor to stop her.

"The queen mother, how did she react?" asked Tyrion.

His mother, Joanna, had been tasked with distracting Rhaella and keeping her away from the prince's trial. She had to feign dementia, as if she didn't really know about the trial and just wanted to have tea with her old friend.

"She was angry at first," she said with a sigh. "Then she laughed out loud, not in the demure way she usually does." Joanna's frown was pronounced.

"Ah... I can imagine what news made her laugh so much," Tyrion said with a smile.

"You look happy, brother," Jaime said, his eyes suspicious.

"It's not happiness, it's amusement. They're not the same thing," said the Imp. "You should get ready and talk to Myrcella, tell her what story she should tell. She can't open her mouth to defend Joffrey. She has to condemn him, too." Jaime listened. "I think you will talk against Joffrey", Tyrion commented.

'If I wanted to control Cersei, I need to be someone she believes is on her side', Jaime thought, but just shrugged his shoulders. He left in silence.

"You are cruel, my son," Joanna said softly, stroking the white hair of her youngest son, her favorite son.

"Of all my nephews, the only one I dislike is Joffrey. To a certain extent, I think it's good that he has been exposed publicly. That way, Father won't be able to save him," Tyrion said. "There will be justice, even if for Father it is only a way to maintain his reputation."

"You are a Lannister, one with a reputation as a womanizer and an alcoholic," said his mother, holding his hair a little tighter. "People will see a little of Joffrey in you," she warned, wanting to tell him not to rejoice too much over public justice.

"But I paid with gold, I don't need to force anyone," he pushed away his mother's hand, who, despite her age, continued to caress him as if he were a small child. 'Bad things about being a dwarf, you don't grow up,' he thought.

Tywin had prepared letters against Prince Jaehaerys. Controlling his daughter, the tournament, and even the desperate attempt at a trial: none of his maneuvers to control the prince had worked. In Tyrion's eyes, his father's biggest mistake was his interaction with Lord Stark.

Tyrion remembered his father ordering that only two chairs remain in his Solar, including the one he occupied. The prince had pissed him off; apparently, his power play had been entirely useless against Jaehaerys when he tried to regain his lost ego by making Eddard Stark, a Lord Paramount, wait for him.

Tyrion shouldn't rejoice in his family's misfortunes, but they didn't help themselves. If his father had done things the right way and treated Lord Stark as an equal, Sansa would now be betrothed to Jaime.

But his father had no equals, not even the king.

Or so he thought.

Tyrion was amazed by how people forgot that Jaehaerys controlled three dragons.

'Do these people think they are immune to fire?' Tyrion wanted to visit ArgentStone. But maybe he would not return from there.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Lord Lydden was found dead in a tavern, his head seemingly crushed with a mace. Jaehaerys did not care about his death. At that moment, he was spending time with his daughter, reading a letter from his wife, Daenerys. His mother had brought it to him.

His wife had rejected the idea of going to Casterly Rock.

I don't want to leave our castle alone. Besides, I'm preparing something, it will be finished before you return.

The letter did not say what she was preparing. Although Jaehaerys imagined it was one of the projects she had been working on.

The trial was canceled, and they sent him a message saying he did not need to appear at all. Joffrey was to be tried that same day, and Jaehaerys attended, more for Serena's sake than his own.

But the brat didn't show up. He was nowhere to be found in the castle.

His mother, Cersei, had disappeared with him.

Serena nodded, somewhat relieved that revenge had not been snatched from her hands.

"Your Highness, Prince Oberyn wishes to speak with you," an immaculate man told her.

"Let him in," she said, cooing to her baby with more confidence than in previous days.

"That's Rhaelle Snow, right? Your bastard. I heard Lord Stark agreed to let her and her mother go with you to ArgentStone," the prince's Dornish accent broke the silence.

"He has. She will be raised in my castle," said the prince. "Did you help Joffrey escape?" he asked the man, leaving the baby in her crib.

"No... apparently, Cersei seduced a captain to get them out of Westeros. She took a chest of gold with her," Oberyn said as if he didn't care at all.

"Escaping under the nose of Mighty Tywin himself. How absurd." The prince walked over to take a jug of wine, bringing one for the other prince.

"Cersei used to talk about Casterly Rock, its hidden passages, and how she knew every corner, how she could get in and out undetected," said the prince melancholically.

Jaehaerys could think of Cersei as a bitch, based on his memories of the canon. In this world, she was still a bitch, but so was Oberyn; they were kindred spirits. The Dornishman's voice was full of pain; he was devastated, having lost his wife and daughter, and realizing that he had failed to protect his own daughter.

"What will become of Serena?" the prince asked.

"She will go wherever she wishes. I feel I have lost the right to tell her what to do," said Oberyn, taking the wine served by the prince. He emptied it in one gulp.

"I will teach her to fight," Jaehaerys said.

"Good. I should have taught her, but Cersei stopped me. And Serena herself was not very eager to learn. A mistake. I should have given her the tools to defend herself." He approached the cradle and looked at the baby.

Jaehaerys said nothing. "We don't hurt little girls in Dorne," Prince Oberyn used to say. And he had no reason to hurt his daughter, yet Jae couldn't help but clench his fist around the cup.

"Ahh, yes. You understand me. I had nine daughters, eight bastards, and one legitimate. I loved none of them less than the other..." Oberyn seemed to have stopped considering Joffrey his own son.

"It's strange, I trust you won't hurt her, but---"

"You're prepared in case I do something." Oberyn nodded. "I understand. I want three of my sand snakes to go with you to ArgentStone. They will be Serena's confidantes."

"Fine," having snakes under his roof was dangerous, but not unfeasible. "May I know who they will be?"

"Nymeria, Sarella, and Elia," said the Dornish prince.

"I will order suitable quarters to be prepared," said Jaehaerys. He had already postponed the decision to live in one of the towers. He wondered if the time was right.

"Good. They will teach Serena to fight, although she mentioned a desire to learn to use your weapon. I hope she is a good student," Oberyn began to withdraw. "By the way, have you heard about the tournament?"

"I haven't heard any changes. Has it been canceled?" he asked, unsurprised. With all the scandals, it was possible that it would be canceled.

"No. They increased the prizes. One million for the melee, half a million for the joust, and a hundred thousand for archery," said Prince Oberyn. "It seems they really want you dead. Will you attend?" he asked curiously.

Jaehaerys exhaled heavily. The initial prizes were outrageous, but it seemed Tywin wanted people to stop thinking about his wayward grandson.

'Is it worth it?' Jaehaerys had promised not to fight, to his mother, to Daenerys.

But that prize would double his fortune.

"Hundreds of men will attend the melee. It will be like a small-scale war," said the prince of Dorne, interpreting his silence. "It's dangerous. Take it from a man known as Viper," he said, walking away silently.

"I'm still not happy with your decision," Queen Rhaella said, her arms crossed over her belly.

Jaehaerys stood in front of her, cradling his little girl. He had become more confident since the first time he held her.

"She's my daughter, my blood... just... look at her," he said, showing her the baby, who smiled when she saw her grandmother.

Rhaella let out a sigh.

"Even so, taking Sansa to ArgentStone, do you know what people will say?" said the queen mother disapprovingly.

Jaehaerys looked at his mother's red dress; Daenerys had given it to her.

"The prince of scrolls... he may be the lustful prince, or perhaps they will begin to compare me to Maegor or Aegon the Unworthy," he shrugged.

The prince knew that a smear campaign would begin against him as soon as he left the Westernlands. Rhaegar would not waste this opportunity to screw up his life a little. The people of Westeros remember. Honestly, since they didn't have many ways to entertain themselves, remembering history was one of the few things they could use to distract themselves.

"You've become bolder. Let Sansa return to the North, even if you don't want her to marry another man." Rhaella tried to convince him, jumping a little when the baby coughed.

She instinctively stood up and took the baby in her arms. Her granddaughter. She was beautiful, and she was sure that if she had been born legitimate, she would have been the envy of the whole kingdom. But the privilege of having Jaehaerys' legitimate children fell to Daenerys.

"I thought you weren't opposed to Sansa and Jaime's marriage," the prince commented, watching his mother's reaction.

"Fuck the Lannisters," she said unconsciously. Then she looked around the room, as if expecting someone to come out and kill her. "Joanna can feign insanity all she wants, but I know she kept me away from your absurd trial on purpose. I enjoyed it when all the gossip about Joffrey came to light. Damn that little bastard." She paused, looking at her son's reaction. "I still remember him harassing Daenerys. Everything would be better if his head were on a pike, at least poor Serena would have justice," she said as she caressed the face of her granddaughter, who smiled at her wildly.

Jaehaerys had had countless problems with his mother. From her doubts about his plans to their disagreements about religion, but he never doubted that she loved him. He would make sure his daughter felt the same way about him.

"And to think you told me I could deny her," said the prince, watching his mother smile.

"It's easy to say that when you don't have her in front of you. If you had denied her, I would never have approached her. An old woman's heart is fragile and easily moved," said Rhaella, as if explaining her entire behavior. "She has the bearing of a Targaryen," she added at the end, as the girl held her gaze.

"She may not have the name. But she will be raised as one, Daenerys agrees with that," he said when he saw his mother about to deny it.

Jaehaerys continued to watch Rhaella and Rhaelle, who seemed to enjoy each other's company.

The prince heard his mother's anger toward the Lannisters, but he didn't hear her say anything against Rhaegar. He wondered whether his mother knew that her eldest son was involved in the whole fiasco, or whether she refused to accept it.

At the end of the day, he couldn't force his mother to choose sides. He could try to convince her that Rhaegar was evil, that he was a psychopath, a madman like Aerys. But there was no guarantee she would believe him.

What mother wanted to hear such things about her own son?

"It's a shame Lyanna and Visenya didn't want to attend the tournament," his mother commented after playing with the baby, about to say goodbye. "It looks like it will be quite interesting. The biggest since Harrenhal."

"Tragedy haunts Lyanna... I don't think it's an enjoyable idea for her." Jaehaerys put his daughter to sleep in her crib.

"Tragedy... yes," said Rhaella before leaving.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Rhaegar looked up and down the stands, searching among the boxes for his brother. He had invited him to sit with him; he needed to see him up close, to keep an eye on him. Perhaps even slip some sweet poison into his drink. Although, according to Varys, Jaehaerys had given up his drinking habit. A pity for the Redwynes and the Dornish.

He looked at the participants. That's when he frowned. His brother, who had refused to participate, was preparing for the joust.

Tywin had organized the tournament to begin with the joust, followed by archery, and finally the melee as the main event. The melee had more than a thousand participants seeking glory. Tywin had allowed anyone who could wield a weapon to enter.

'Poor fools.' The smallfolk might think they had a chance, but the knights and lords had been raised for war. They would be nothing more than meat to be cut down by swords.

The jousting had been more strictly regulated, although it really mattered little. More than 120 men signed up. On the first day, participants would be allowed to choose their opponents until only 64 remained; some would not even participate.

His brother had armor, good armor, black armor. Rhaegar wondered what kind of steel it was; the king's armor was black too, but it looked different.

Less impressive at first glance.

"It looks like our uncle will represent his own house," Aegon said to Rhaenys.

The two siblings were close, but not as close as Rhaegar would have liked. Not as close as the three heads of the dragon should be.

The king looked at his brother's coat of arms. Two dragons, one black and one white, intertwined. Not fighting, but dancing in sync. A copper-colored background. He looked at strange symbols engraved on the shield, ones he had never seen before.

"The first participant, Ser Arthur Dayne, will select his opponent," said the announcer.

Usually, Tywin or someone from the Lannister family would have given a speech, but he was not a man of many words. He had already made clear with his actions what he intended for this tournament. Extravagance.

Rhaegar knew that initially it had been to eliminate Jaehaerys.

Eliminating the prince during the tournament was almost impossible. Not even Ser Arthur had enough confidence to destroy him.

For a second, Rhaegar considered ordering everyone to kill him. The deepest part of his mind whispered to him to do so.

'Aerys would have done it,' thought the king.

It wouldn't be long before people saw him as his father. No one wanted a second Mad King. Although Rhaegar did not consider himself one, he did everything for a purpose, an ultimate goal. He felt no pleasure, only the weight of his responsibility.

Not to mention that Daenerys was still in ArgentStone with Visenya, backed by an army and dragons. He wondered if his little sister would seek revenge for her husband. Perhaps she would. According to Varys, they both showed genuine affection, even in King's Landing.

Ser Arthur directly challenged Ser Lyn Corbray. He was a renowned warrior, though not the most pleasant to meet. That's what the lords said. The man was quite docile in Rhaegar's presence. That same man killed Lewyn Martell at the Trident. A skilled man, if it weren't for the murder of a white cloak, who was his wife's uncle, and his conceited and proud character, Rhaegar would have given him the white cloak.

Ser Arthur was an excellent jouster. But even so, he needed to break several lances to knock Ser Lyn Corbray down. The lord of the valley fell to the ground with a thud. His heavy armor made it difficult for him to get up.

"My sword!" the man shouted.

Rhaegar almost rolled his eyes at all the cries from the crowd. The man had been quite good, but he had lost. He had lost to Arthur Dayne, the best warrior in Westeros, if Jaehaerys was not counted. Now he was challenging him to a duel. He had the right to do so, but he had no chance of winning.

"Lady Forlorn," he looked at the Valyrian steel sword with a hint of greed in his eyes. How he wished he had another sword for his house. Now he had Dark Sister with him, but that was Visenya's sword. It was not Aegon's, which is why he did not allow his heir to carry it, although the latter did not seem too interested in doing so.

The duel was less even than the joust. Ser Arthur wielded Dawn, the sword of his house. It was not a Valyrian steel sword, but it could be compared to them. It was made from a meteorite, according to the stories.

"Enough!" roared the king when Lyn fell to his knees. "Let the tournament continue." He wanted nothing more than to get out of there.

He would not see his brother die that day. But in the melee, perhaps. If Jaehaerys had entered the joust, he might also seek the gold of the melee, the highest prize. That made Rhaegar feel a little anticipation. Daenerys could not avenge her husband if he died by accident. Perhaps she could burn some man who participated in the melee, but she would have no grounds to go after the royal house.

The men rode past and competed with each other. The sound of wood breaking echoed in the king's ears. When Jaehaerys competed, he selected a random man, the bastard who had the misfortune of being next to him---a wandering mercenary.

One lance and the mercenary fell. His horse whinnied in fear.

"Our uncle doesn't seem to be a very good jouster," said Rhaenys, who had watched dozens of tournaments.

"No... I don't really think he's ever competed before. But his strength could give him a good advantage," said Aegon. "We all know Ser Gregor, he's not exactly known for his skill, but for his monstrous strength," the man he referred to was in the arena.

Gregor was still, though Rhaegar could swear the man was trembling with rage. The king hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid. He needed him alive for the melee to go against his brother.

Luckily, Gregor couldn't choose. The next participant was Loras Tyrell, who was part of the Kingsguard. Also from the Tyrells were Lady Margaery and her older brother, Garlan, who was also participating in the tournament. The young Tyrell directly challenged Gregor.

"Oh, it looks like the Knight of Flowers is going to go up against the Mountain again," said young Myrcella. Rhaegar didn't even turn to look at her.

This time, the Mountain seemed to have lost his patience. He did not want his failure to be repeated. He attacked the young knight's horse directly at the feet.

"Loras!" Garlan shouted as he moved toward his fallen brother.

Luckily, the horse did not fall on top of him, and although his leg was stuck, he seemed unharmed.

Gregor looked at Jaehaerys, as if warning him of what would happen if they met during the tournament. Jaehaerys wore a helmet, so his reaction was unknown to everyone present.

"How dishonorable," he heard someone in the crowd shout. Margaery said it with contempt for the Mountain.

Rhaegar had his doubts about how to deal with the Tyrells. He had thought that giving them a place in the royal guard would satisfy them, but no. They had been seeking a marriage between Daemon and Margaery as a form of compensation.

'Perhaps I will have to pluck some flowers from their garden.' The king would let Jaehaerys sit on the Iron Throne before he would let Daemon and Margaery marry. He heard nothing about his son in the North. The last thing Varys said about him was that he was going to the Wall to visit Maester Aemon.

The rest of the tournament continued regardless of this mishap. Some jousts ended in a single exchange, usually between the experienced and those who tried their luck. Prince Jaehaerys knocked down two more men. It seemed that with each joust, he became more accustomed to the tournament.

The tournament ended when only 64 participants remained. More would be held the next day. Two days until the end of the tournament, then it would be a day of archery, which would serve as a break before the melee.

Rhaegar waited eagerly.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Jaehaerys had decided to participate in the jousting tournament. Half a million gold dragons. He could obtain them with a fair degree of certainty. The matches would be one-on-one.

The first and second days had been the most boring for Jaehaerys. His opponents were not the best and posed no challenge. That day, the tournament ended. There were 32 participants left. On the first day, he knocked down three men, and on the second, only one, Edmure Tully, Eddard Stark's good-brother.

Edmure was a much more capable man than the TV show made him out to be, where he was little more than a buffoon. He managed to withstand three lances before falling from his horse. The red-haired man did not give him a second glance; probably, thanks to his father, he did not have a good impression of him. And since the affair with Sansa, even less so.

On the third day, more interesting names remained. Ser Arthur, Ser Garlan, Ser Addam Marbrand, Ser Balon Swann, who was a knight of whom his mother had a somewhat favorable impression. There were other names, none of which Jaehaerys remembered as being impressive. They were good, but not on the same level as those mentioned.

Ah, there was also that big monster who seemed to salivate when he saw him. Gregor Clegane. Jaehaerys expected the man to lunge at him at any moment. The Mountain's jousts had been anything but honorable. The man played dirty, as if nothing mattered to him but winning.

Jaehaerys felt a little touched that he was the reason the man was so focused on winning.

"The Prince of Scrolls, Jaehaerys Targaryen," they announced. His first battle would be against "Garlan the Gallant," a terrible nickname if you asked Jaehaerys.

His rival was one of the best. Jaehaerys could see him winning the tournament above all others. He was everything Loras was, but better. Without that arrogance and desire to show off. And much more skilled.

Jaehaerys thought he might lose to him.

"I need to climb the mountain, my prince," the man said, as if apologizing for fighting seriously.

The mountain had wounded Garlan's brother, Loras. His injuries were not serious, but they were enough to make him angry. It was a simmering anger. He was serious and focused, his emotions serving as fuel.

Jaehaerys found his desire to win the gold inferior to Garlan's desire to avenge his brother. But that didn't mean he would let him win. No way.

Ser Garlan was a different opponent than those he had faced before. He felt it on the first pass. Garlan's blow hit him in the chest, dodging his shield. The prince had practiced for the first time two days ago; the Tyrells had been practicing for years.

The prince looked at his chest. The blow almost knocked him off his horse; on land, it would never have moved him. But while riding, inertia did not favor him when receiving a blow. The prince threw down his shield. Honestly, he couldn't concentrate on blocking the lance while riding.

He grabbed his horse's reins, holding on so he wouldn't fall. Good old Coal groaned a little.

The second spear hit him in the chest again, but his lance also struck, shattering the shield decorated with roses. Both were now on equal footing. Not for long, though, as Garlan asked for a new shield.

The third and fourth were similar. Jaehaerys struck the shield and broke it, receiving blows himself. The steel of his armor cushioned most of the damage, but it was starting to hurt a little.

On the fifth, Jaehaerys changed hands mid-stride. His left was not as strong as his right, but it was enough. He found a new angle, striking Ser Garlan in the stomach. The man fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. Jaehaerys breathed a sigh of relief. He expected a challenge, but Garlan just shook his head.

"The horse..."

"You can keep it," said the prince; if he had been more selfish, he would have had five extra horses at that moment.

"No," Garlan said. "It's yours," he said gallantly.

It was tradition that during jousts, the winner would obtain the other's belongings. Jaehaerys had refused when his rivals offered him their belongings. For most, their horse was a large part of their belongings.

In the end, the prince kept the horse. Although Garlan kept his armor. The prince allowed him to pay for the animal when he realized that the man would not let him "give" it to him.

"You can think of it as a gift from the domain. In fact, it is your horse's brother," it had been House Tyrell who gave him the horse he was riding at the time.

"Really?" The prince was a little surprised.

Garlan's horse, now his, was dark brown with white speckles. It was large and imposing, the same size as his own.

"Yes, same mare, same stallion," the man nodded. "My grandmother... she invites you to the domain; she hopes you will be able to come at any time," the man said, then walked away. He seemed a little embarrassed.

Jaehaerys rode his new horse toward his squire. He had initially planned for Brandon Snow to be his squire; that would have been quite amusing. Unfortunately for him, another, smaller Bran had latched onto him from day one. Ned had allowed it.

Bran Stark was not his page, nor his squire. But during the tournament, he would serve as one. He did not believe Lord Stark would be willing to leave another of his sons in his hands. However, the prince would like to annoy the bloody Bloodraven a little more.

"Here, order them to take him to the stables," he said, handing him the reins. The young Stark obeyed quickly.

Behind him, the tournament continued. Arthur passed, as did Ser Gregor. Jaehaerys' next opponent was Ser Balon Swann.

The man was burly, but not as fast and agile as Garlan. He didn't want to offend the Kingsguard knight, but after facing Garlan, competing against him didn't seem so difficult.

The next round was against Ser Addam. A friend of Jaime Lannister, he was described as someone with a good head on his shoulders. His spear was good, but again, he was not as good as Garlan.

Then he faced Ser Arthur. Of all the men he recognized at first, he faced each of them individually. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he realized everything.

In the final round, if he won against Arthur, he would face Gregor Clegane, who had destroyed a knight from the Stormlands. The joust was brutal. Ser Gregor broke his lance in the poor man's neck.

Ser Gregor faced weak opponents. Meanwhile, Jaehaerys went up against the best in the tournament.

"Ser Arthur," he nodded in the man's direction.

The knight nodded without saying a word.

That joust was... surprisingly easy. Ser Arthur seemed tired, or rather, he seemed unwilling to fight. He fell on the third lance. The crowd went wild, while others began to shout that it was unfair, that it was rigged.

Jaehaerys couldn't help but agree with them; it was rigged.

Finally, he looked at the Mountain in front of him. The man seemed impatient.

"I will destroy you," said the man.

"First, you need to touch me," replied the prince, going to the other end of the arena.

The commentator didn't even say a word before the Mountain that Rides began to charge at the prince. His spear went straight for the feet of the prince's black horse. The prepared prince jumped. The spear grazed the ground as the prince struck the mountain's shield.

Jaehaerys laughed loudly. He watched the Mountain charge again, this time the spear aimed at his chest. The prince's shield exploded, and he felt his hand go numb.

The prince didn't bother to ask for another shield. Just a spear. His horse reared up.

Ser Gregor went for the horse's legs again, trying his luck once more.

To do so, he had to lean his body slightly, and Jaehaerys struck his helmet as his horse jumped. The prince heard the metal bend and, for less than a blink, listened to the Mountain's muffled groan of pain. The tip of the spear entered through the eye socket and exited through the back of the head.

The prince let go of the reins and quietly dropped to the ground. His body hit the ground with a thud.

Silence reigned; his brother was probably screaming with joy in his head. He heard footsteps approaching and tensed.

"I'm here, Jaehaerys," he heard Brandon whisper.

Jaehaerys just closed his eyes, making an effort not to move a finger.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"Absurd, absurd, he's my son. Do you think I would hurt my own son?" Queen Rhaella looked at Brandon, who was guarding the prince's door.

"These are Princess Daenerys' orders. If anything happens to Jaehaerys, don't let anyone in to see him except the maester who is attending him. No exceptions," the man explained.

"I'll put your head on a pike if you don't let me see my son," Rhaella warned, or threatened.

Brandon laughed a little; he couldn't help it.

"The princess warned me something similar. Although she used dragon fire as a threat," he told the woman. "The prince is safe. Or so the maester says." Brandon found all that talk annoying. His brother Torrhen was the good talker.

"The prince is fine," said a tired Sansa as she left the room where Jaehaerys was being treated, her daughter in her arms.

"The royal family is not allowed in, but a Stark is?" This time, it was Rhaenys who spoke. She looked at Sansa and her daughter with no small amount of resentment.

Brandon wanted to bang his head against the wall. The prince really was an annoying bastard for putting him through all this. Gods, he wouldn't be surprised if Jaehaerys knew precisely what he was causing by starting this whole charade.

"Orders," Brandon shrugged. He looked at the immaculate man beside him, who seemed concerned about the prince's health. "I'll guard the room from the inside," he said, leaving the eunuch outside.

Inside the room, there was a lump on the bed, too still to be human. In the deepest part of the room, where it was impossible to see from the door, was the prince, writing. All possible entrances or avenues for espionage were covered.

"You look overwhelmed, Brandon," whispered the prince when the bastard got close enough.

"As if you didn't know..." He stopped complaining. "How was the fall?" Despite it being a charade, the prince fell from the top of his jumping mount. The fall must have been at least two meters.

"Fine, my chest hurts more thanks to Garlan. Have you heard anything from the Mountain?" asked the prince.

"Dead. That's what happens when you crack someone's skull," he said sarcastically. "Oh, his brother, the puppy, seemed to be looking for you," the prince smiled mysteriously.

"Well... he could come back with us to ArgentStone. Do you know if he'll be participating in the melee?" he asked.

"No idea." He hadn't exchanged many words with the man, only what was necessary.

"Find him and ask him if he wants to team up with me." The prince stretched, his bones cracking. "The knight with the red cape." Brandon nodded, knowing what he meant, and quickly left.

An assassin. He would only have to send an assassin to Jaehaerys's chambers. One man, one dagger, and it would all be over. He didn't even have to wait for the melee. Tywin had proven himself a most capable man, wearing his brother down in every encounter until he reached the Mountain.

Rhaegar was surprised by his brother's skill. Even when he killed Gregor, he didn't seem to have suffered much damage. His fall from his horse was attributed to the blows he had received earlier.

"The best man, I don't want any mistakes," he said to Tywin.

"It will be done, Your Grace," said the Lannister before leaving.

Rhaegar had contacts in Lannisport, but he did not trust them to send a man to the prince's chambers to assassinate him. There were at least forty guards, and the Starks had another forty there. The mercenaries needed for an attack would be too many and too conspicuous.

Rhaegar looked down from the heights of Casterly Rock. Lannisport was prosperous and well-regarded, unlike King's Landing, which seemed like a joke compared to this city. The capital was a pile of shit, only relevant because the royal family resided there.

Rhaegar walked to the dining room, where he had organized a small dinner with his family to wish his brother a speedy recovery. The king was actually celebrating his brother's descent into hell.

Everything on the table was gold. Rhaegar said nothing against it, although he always thought silver was better, more refined, and beautiful.

"Has there been any news about my brother?" he asked Rhaenys and Rhaella directly. Both women had gone to the prince's mansion earlier.

"He is alive and stable, though still unconscious," said Rhaenys.

The queen mother frowned with concern. Rhaegar almost felt sorry for his mother; she had already lost several children in the past, and reminding her of that pain was cruel but necessary. Jaehaerys did not need to live.

"I hope for his speedy recovery. He was always a strong man; I'm sure he'll pull through," Rhaegar said, the lies stinging his mouth as he spoke.

"You should send a maester to check on him. The Lannister's maester," Rhaella said suddenly.

"I will, I will order Tywin to send him," said the king.

The poison could work on his brother. If the assassin failed, the maester would only have to slip a few drops, and he would die. Then he would have to kill the man, but a small sacrifice for a greater purpose never weighed on Rhaegar's mind.

"I doubt the prince's men will let him near," said Rhaenys. "Even we weren't allowed to set foot inside his room," she said, looking angry, like a child about to throw a tantrum.

Jaehaerys was capable of eliciting that reaction in her. Although they were no longer the closest, Rhaenys was still much more sensitive to the prince than to anyone else. Rhaegar remembered his daughter asking, no, begging him to let her marry Jaehaerys.

He almost threw her into the flames right there and then.

"You weren't allowed in, Grandmother?" Prince Aegon spoke, sweating, even though Rhaegar didn't find the room hot.

"No. Daenerys' orders, in case anything happened to Jaehaerys," Rhaella said reproachfully.

"Daenerys' word is beneath that of the king. Order his men to let you see him. The maester will follow you," said the king.

"They are immaculate, most of them. They probably won't take orders from you," said Aegon. "Their obedience is to their owners, or liberators," he said at last. After all, they were no longer slaves, but free men under ArgentStone's command.

"I will send Ser Arthur to ensure their obedience," the king added, somewhat displeased that a simple man would want to obey an order above his own.

"And start a fight?" Aegon refused. "Do you have any idea how the news will reach my aunt's ears?" he asked. "It could look like an attempt on the prince's life," said his heir. And Rhaegar found himself listening to his words.

After dealing with Jaehaerys, he had to deal with Daenerys. The girl was not as good as her brother, but she had good men by her side. Qyburn and Torrhen stayed with her at ArgentStone. Rhaegar did not know the bastard, only that Barristan and Varys had told him he was a fierce warrior like his brother.

He knew from Qyburn that he was a man who broke the rules of the Citadel for the sake of his research, for the pursuit of knowledge. The king thought he would have been a good man under his command, helping to decipher the prophecies.

Rhaegar remained silent. A direct attack on the prince could mean that Daenerys would take it as a declaration of war. She was a woman, a hurt woman who could go around burning everything like a madwoman. He couldn't risk it; his Visenya was still in ArgentStone.

"Send for the maester. It will be up to the prince's men to deny their lord the best treatment," he said at last. He couldn't stir things up too much without consequences.

'Not yet.'

'I could take Daenerys as my wife. I could produce other children of strong lineage to marry Aegon's children,' thought the king.

But first, he would have to eliminate Lyanna and Elia.

The she-wolf had been evading death for a long time.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

The melee had to be held in a large field---almost thirty acres. The stands had been built on top of a mountain, although it was unlikely that the lords would be able to entertain themselves. According to the instructions, once about 100 men remained, the melee would end and resume the next day in a smaller space.

It was like a small-scale war. Large groups had been formed, each with about three hundred men. The most powerful lords had promised gold to those who fought alongside them. Jon Connington was leading one side, with men from the Stormlands and the Crownlands following him.

Edmure Tully led the men from the Riverlands. Greatjon joined him at Brynden's request, as did another group of northerners.

And then there were the Tyrells. Loras and Garlan led a motley crew of men, most of them from the Reach, and they were the most numerous.

"You're the Hound, right?" the prince heard a red-haired man address Sandor Clegane.

The Hound, Sandor Clegane. He was the younger brother of Gregor Clegane, whom Jaehaerys killed. The man went and swore allegiance to his brother's killer. He was not a handsome man; he had a burn on his face, a gift from his older brother.

"What do you want, cunt?" The man did not address Lord Edmure Tully gently or respectfully, and Edmure's face fell as another man, with gray hair and black armor, laughed a little beside him.

"A thousand gold dragons if our group wins. There are ten of your group; you have little chance of winning on your own." The man, named Brynden Tully, was the uncle of Edmure and Catelyn Tully. He had a rather famous nickname: The Blackfish.

Sandor shrugged as he accepted. Jaehaerys had ordered him to join a group at the earliest opportunity.

"I almost thought you'd raise the price," said the Blackfish. "We're discussing how to attack," said the man, dragging his nephew along. "The Griffin and the Roses are closer to each other than we are," he said, referring to Connington and the Tyrells. "With a little luck, they'll fight each other."

"And with bad luck, they'll join forces against us before fighting each other," said Jaehaerys. Blackfish looked at him, but his entire face and hair were hidden under his helmet; he had made sure his eyes were not visible.

"What is your name, boy?" asked the legendary warrior.

Jaehaerys remained silent, simply pointing to his red cloak. Brynden frowned and walked away. The prince shrugged. The old man might think he was a spy for the Tyrells or Connington. He didn't care, as long as he wasn't fighting 1,000 against 1, he was confident he would survive until the cut.

Greatjon looked at the prince suspiciously, probably recognizing him by his voice. But he said nothing; the North and Jaehaerys were allies at that moment, and there was no need for the man to make any blunder.

Jaehaerys waited. He had ten of his men with him, all of whom were not Unsullied. The Unsullied stood out like a sore thumb, so if he wanted to conceal his state of health, it was better not to bring them.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Blackfish finally revealed his strategy. In the distance, the armies of Tyrell and Connington had merged into one---an army of about 700 against Tully's 300 men. The prince was given a blue cloth, and the other men had one of the same tied around their arms. It was a way to identify allies from enemies on the battlefield.

"We'll wait for them to advance. They have the numbers, they will attack," said the Blackfish in a general's voice. "We have the advantage of position; they will have to climb. We will divide into three blocks, and Edmure and I will lead the center. Greatjon will lead the left block," at which the giant man raised his broadsword in the air with a shout. A handful of boisterous northerners cheered him. "Lyn Corbray will lead the right block," he said, with a hint of ill-concealed annoyance.

"Hound, you'll come with me," said the knight of the Vale. Sandor looked at Jaehaerys, who shrugged. The group approached the man.

Then they gave further instructions. The plan was simple: they would retreat up the mountain. The left flank, led by Greatjon, consisted of 80 cavalrymen. The rest---the center---was purely infantry, a decision that alarmed Jaehaerys. On the right flank were another 20 horsemen. They were mainly knights, knights no one would probably remember.

The men would retreat, giving the Tyrells and Jon a false sense of security. That could cause the Tyrell brothers to approach recklessly. If cracks appeared in their defense, GreatJon would lead a flank charge, seeking to break their ranks; otherwise, they would stick to the initial plan: retreat and wear them down.

According to Blackfish, the greatest threat was Jon Connington, after all, the man had already fought a war. The Tyrell brothers, despite their reputation as skilled warriors, had not experienced the horrors of the battlefield.

Jaehaerys held his sword as he mounted his horse, the brown horse with white speckles he had obtained from Garlan. His group was the only one with horses on the right flank.

Finally, the sound of a horn alerted everyone. The men in the distance began to approach. The composition of both armies was similar in terms of the proportion of men. The Tullys had about 100 horsemen and 200 infantry. There were no archers, as there was a high possibility of killing with a bow, and melee is supposed to be a non-lethal event.

It always ends in broken bones or a skull.

The Tyrell-Conningtons had about 230 horses and some 470 infantrymen. Their force was more than double that of the Tullys, and the battle seemed decided from the start. Jaehaerys wondered if they had agreed to divide the spoils or if they would tear each other apart after destroying the Tully army.

Jaehaerys didn't even know how they were going to divide the spoils. That is, after this battle, they would take 100 men---those who were left standing---and go on to a more traditional melee. How would they select them? If the Tyrell army wiped out the other armies, would they fight among themselves until there were 100 left? Would Garlan and Loras select the men?

'I just have to stay on my feet,' he told himself.

The enemy men charged, the horsemen ahead of the rest---a foolish move, at least initially. The forces focused on heading directly for the Tully banners, intent on taking down Edmure and the Blackfish.

'Cunning old man,' Jaehaerys thought. That would leave the Greatjon with a better opportunity to attack.

The enemy army stopped, at least part of it, with about half the horsemen slowing down. The rest continued to charge, ignoring orders.

'They lack discipline,' thought the prince. It was the first time these men had fought in this manner; they were probably looking for glory. Now, about 120 men on horseback continued riding, ignoring the orders of Connington and Tyrell to withdraw.

"Scatter!" shouted the Blackfish.

The men separated, leaving spaces between them before the cavalry arrived. These men were suspiciously disciplined. 'Tully guards?' thought the prince. The cavalry reached the center. They did not arrive simultaneously. The climb drained some horses' energy and strength, causing them to arrive at different times.

Scattering the men reduced the stampede's effectiveness. Tully's men attacked the mounted men.

The battle in the center developed favorably for Tully. The horses passed through the gaps the men had left. They lost their collective mass, leaving their flanks exposed. At that moment, being uphill, they were more vulnerable, and the Blackfish's men took advantage of that to attack.

"Advance!" Greatjon began to charge the cavalry from the side. Jaehaerys looked into the distance; Connington's other men were advancing at a slow pace, waiting for the infantry. It would be best to concentrate the men against the men who had just arrived.

The northerners' charge struck the enemy horses, the men wielding swords on horseback, each blow frightening the enemy. Seeing a giant man wielding a sword as if it were a toy frightened both men and horses. The attack was a great advantage for the Tullys.

"Now we have to focus on the next wave."

Because of Greatjon's movement, the formation changed.

At first, there was the left flank, then the center, and finally the right. Now the left flank moved next to the right one. This left the arrangement from left to right as: center flank, left flank, right flank. The hillside prevented Greatjon from easily returning to his position.

The men who charged at the beginning were already practically defeated. They fled with their pride and, perhaps, a broken bone or two.

Now the remaining men of Tyrell-Connington advanced slowly. They stopped at the foot of the hillside. They seemed in no hurry to advance. Their initial idea of attacking the center would be easier at that moment, since Brynden was now exposed on the left. But that also meant that if the enemies attacked directly there, Greatjon's forces could easily flank them.

"And Lyn seems to have no intention of moving at all," thought the prince.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"Fall back!" said Lyn Corbray, obeying Brynden's order. The men began to saunter, climbing up the hillside. Soon Jaehaerys saw men lying on the ground where Brynden's men had been before. The fallen, wounded men withdrew, those who could, carrying other men with them.

Those were the rules; in real combat, those men would be dead or maimed. Probably more than one had ended up seriously wounded.

Tully's men mounted their enemies' horses and stole them. Jaehaerys counted that they had gained about 60 more riders. Jon lost about 15 in his charge, leaving them with about 145 men on horseback against about 130 from the Tyrell-Conningtons. Some of the men who had rushed to attack managed to escape and rejoined them.

The difference was in the infantry; at that moment, House Tyrell had about three times as many men on foot. Jaehaerys waited to see how the battle would continue. Although he was not the protagonist, he found himself learning from it.

The Tyrells slowly began to climb the hillside, probably to conserve energy. Jaehaerys looked at the men, most of whom wore at least chain mail armor. They could not move as nimbly as they would have liked.

The men also seemed to have formed three blocks. They imitated the Tully formation, positioning the cavalry in the side blocks and leaving mostly infantry in the center. Brynden's men continued to retreat. It was a matter of patience at that point. If the enemies rushed to attack, it would benefit the Tullys.

But it seemed that Jon was better than Jaehaerys had expected. Honestly, he had always taken him for a buffoon and underestimated him. He looked into the distance at the Tyrell brothers, advancing together as if to cover each other's backs. If Jaehaerys took them down, it would be all over.

He spurred his horse toward Greatjon.

"Come back here!" Lyn shouted as he watched him leave. "I'll have you executed for disobeying orders!" he shouted again when the prince didn't respond.

'Maybe Lyn will die in the turmoil,' Jaehaerys said to himself. The man took the bloody event as if it were real.

"You can't break ranks just like that," said Greatjon when he saw the prince approaching, though he didn't reprimand him too harshly. "One starts, the others follow."

"If I take down the Tyrells, the enemy army will fall," he told the man. "They're at the front, exposed and quite visible," he said. Greatjon didn't ask to take them down. Between Jaehaerys and Greatjon, they could take them down with relative ease. Even the prince could do it alone, but in a tumult, it was uncertain.

"If you fail..." said GreatJon.

The Tyrells were in the block that would face GreatJon, mainly cavalry.

"Still, we have the momentum, we'll pick up speed, our charge will wipe out theirs," said the prince.

"We need a distraction, red cloak," the man told him.

The Tyrell army continued to advance slowly. At that moment, they were still about 500 feet away. It would take a while before they arrived; they would probably stop at a distance and wait for Tully to attack. It was best to surprise them before that.

Greatjon called a young man, similar in build to himself, probably his son. He gave him instructions and sent him as a messenger to Brynden. Minutes later, he returned.

"Two horns," said the boy when he returned. Now the Tyrell-Connington men were about 200 feet away.

And soon, Jaehaerys heard it, one horn, then another. Then Brynden's men charged, first the infantry, leaving gaps between them. Then the cavalry advanced rapidly, passing through the gaps, so that both arrived at almost the same time.

Greatjon reared his horse, a beast to match his size, and charged at the Tyrells. Jaehaerys rode alongside him. His horse quickly picked up speed. The Tyrells' slow charge worked against them when the men collided. Brynden's charge struck first, breaking the ranks. Brynden fought at the front, alongside Edmure.

Jaehaerys looked at Loras and Garlan. They did not hide, but drew their weapons and charged at the prince and Greatjon. Jaehaerys knocked Garlan down with a single blow. Meanwhile, Greatjon collided with Loras, and both were quickly knocked down.

In a battle on foot, both men might have had a better chance, but on horseback, with the charge against them and against men of brutal strength, they fell from their horses.

Jaehaerys sheathed his sword, picked up Garlan and Loras, and carried them off the battlefield. If anything happened to them, the Tyrells would be pissed.

His horse managed to move with the weight of the three men, leaving both brothers on the sidelines of the battle, in a safe place. There he watched as Tully's men achieved an initial victory, but when the initial charge passed, Connington managed to rally his men and defend himself. He would be the next one Jaehaerys had to attack.

"It seems that the rumors of his injury are exaggerated," said Garlan. His armor was bent.

"Should I defeat you both?" asked the prince, who really wanted to move as quickly as possible against Connington.

"No, my prince," said Garlan, much to the confusion of Loras, who looked at Jaehaerys with the same desire he had always had since Jaehaerys saved him from the Mountain at the tournament in King's Landing.

"Good," said the prince, moving to return to the battlefield. Some of Tyrell's men had scattered, while others had joined Connington.

"Now you move?" the prince cursed as he watched Lyn descend, seemingly heading straight for Brynden and Edmure.

'Did he betray them?'

"Charge!" Lyn shouted, his voice booming across the battlefield.

He had teamed up with the Tullys, trusting Brynden's ability to lead the battle. But he had not planned to stay with him too long. After all, he did not want to share the prize.

"Attack all the men! Tyrell! Connington! Tully!" he told the men who followed him. Some of them looked at him apprehensively. "I'll give you a thousand gold dragons each!" he lied. He had no intention of giving them anything.

"I've already been offered a thousand," he heard the Hound say, who looked at him bored.

"I'll give you ten thousand," he said.

He would find a way to kill him on the battlefield. Sandor accepted with a shrug. Lyn drew his sword. Lady Forlorn. It was forbidden to bring a bladed weapon, but who was going to check him?

He looked at the battlefield, and the Tully and Connington men were at a stalemate. The Tyrells were nowhere to be seen. He had watched the guy in the red cloak drag them away from the battlefield. An honorable action. Something only a fool would do.

"Men, follow me!" he shouted as he began to spur his horse on.

Sandor's sword struck Corbray's head, a disgusting crack telling him he had broken a bone in his skull. He was probably dead. He shrugged. The men following him stopped their charge.

"What the hell are you waiting for? Support Tully. I'll fuck the asses of those who stand still!" he added at the end when none of the men seemed to want to move.

He watched a man pick up Corbray's sword and let him be; he was one of the prince's men.

Sandor rode toward Connington, the man barking orders from behind, not daring to engage in direct combat. The Hound growled when he crashed into a wall of men. He couldn't reach the general, so he threw himself at the men to knock them down.

All those men were fucking little pussies. One blow from his sword was enough, not to defeat them, no. The bastards could take more, but when they felt the strength, they shit themselves in fear.

After making more than one man shit himself, he watched a bastard throw a man through the air---a bastard in a red cloak. 'The knight with the red cloak,' he sneered inwardly.

The man who was thrown into the air hit Connington, knocking the Griff from his horse. The Tully men were filled with adrenaline; they felt victory there and charged with more force.

"Fucking cunts!" shouted the dog when he saw the enemy retreat, only their leader had fallen, and they could no longer continue.

"Keep formation!" he heard a stupid, brave man shout.

Sandor lunged in his direction. The man stopped his sword with his spear and returned a dangerous blow. He almost lost the battle at that moment. Sandor looked at the enemy men; they had gained a little hope from the man he was fighting. He had to fuck him up again.

But he was too good.

Sandor and the man continued fighting for minutes, the chaos around them not interfering with their battle, as if they had been given space on purpose. Well, they learned how to do it, a small knight tried to sneak attack the Hound. Now he had a good injury. Sandor didn't know where he had been hit, but he didn't hear the crunch of bones breaking, so it wasn't serious.

"Enough!" he heard someone shout.

When the dog looked around, he noticed that only a few were still standing, mostly the Tullys. Some were watching their duel, others were resting on their backs.

"After the Red Cloak Knight knocked Connington down, many fled," Brynden said as they approached.

"There are about 200 men left," said a young man with platinum blond hair. Sandor recognized the heir, Aegon, and Arthur riding along with him. "You can fight among yourselves until there are 100 left. Or you can select 100, Ser Brynden, as long as everyone agrees," said the prince.

"I'll pick them," replied the veteran. "You've already gotten your pay!" shouted the Blackfish. "Unless you win the tournament, you won't get anything more than that. Those who agree, leave, the gold will come later," he told them.

Sandor noticed the men retreating, more than one of them looking in the same direction. At the man in the red cape. In the end, only about 60 men remained. Sandor looked at the man he was fighting. It seemed that, as a tacit agreement, they would let him participate even though his side had lost.

The Hound snorted as he walked toward one of Prince Jaehaerys' men. He would fight the next day.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Finally, a man took down the names and appearances of each of the participants who would fight tomorrow in the Melee. The prince was among them.

"You want to maintain the appearance of a mysterious knight, eh?" said the man, looking at him suspiciously. "The men will go after you, you know, you took down the Tyrells and Connington," said the man.

Jaehaerys shrugged. He had registered under the name "The Knight With the Red Cloak," even though he wasn't even a knight.

He looked into the distance at Connington. The man accepted defeat with shame. To tell the truth, Jaehaerys expected more of a reaction from him. That he would go mad, or deny he had lost, anything like that.

He seemed more depressed.

Jaehaerys wanted to take off his helmet to show him his face, to see if knowing his identity would change his opinion about how he felt at that moment, to see if sadness would turn to anger.

Jaehaerys left the battlefield quickly, took out his horse, and when he arrived at his mansion, he locked it away from prying eyes. He felt a little bad, but it would only be for a day. In the meantime, he had to go to his mansion to continue working on his castle. After all, fighting in the melee was only a means to an end.

"And I struck down the Rose with a single blow!" Jon Umber shouted, loud as ever.

The man, along with the Tullys and Starks, had organized a small banquet at the Stark mansion. The giant man was shouting about his exploits on the battlefield. Brynden was in a corner, drinking mead. Eddard walked in his direction.

"Congratulations on the victory," Ned congratulated him.

He had won a battle against all odds. It was admirable, even though Ned himself despised tournaments. After accepting the deal with Jaehaerys, he had only stayed at his children's request, who wanted to experience a tournament.

"That boy won, the one in the red cape. Damn beast!" said the man. "I've never seen a man fight like that. He used his sword like a damn spoon. Still, no one could beat him," he said, a little indignant.

Jaehaerys, of course, Ned knew who the man was, had fought masterfully on the battlefield, cutting off the heads of the leaders. He moved in and out of the ranks with incredible ease. Ned didn't believe that even Robert could do such things in his best moment.

"The king wants to meet him in person. He plans to give him the white cloak after the tournament, regardless of whether he wins," said Ned, taking a swig from a horn filled with beer.

"If he wins the million, I don't think he'll want to wear the cloak," said Brynden, shaking his head. "Either he's from a good family, or he's an ambitious bastard," he explained. "The boy has a good head on his shoulders, you know? And he's not afraid to take the lead... I doubt the white cloak would suit him," Ned knew that Jaehaerys would never accept the white cloak. He had things he couldn't put aside. And he didn't seem to have a good relationship with the king.

"Corbray is dead," Ned said in a more bitter tone.

Brynden shrugged. He didn't seem happy about the man's death, nor did he feel remorse for him. Accidents happen, and to Brynden, he was just another man who died in the tournament, a man who sought to betray him as well. The details of his death were not entirely clear; some say the dog smashed his head in.

"And Lady Forlorn disappeared," said Brynden. House Corbray had offered an enormous reward for whoever found her and returned her to the house. "He carried a deadly weapon, and he lost it. The Corbray family must be furious."

"An ancient weapon, stolen," Ned said, finding the situation bitter.

"Yeah... poor fool," Brynden emptied the contents of his horn in one go. "Speaking of fools, who is the idiot bothering my niece?" he asked.

"100 yards. I can hit a sparrow 100 yards away, you know?" Sansa heard Theon Greyjoy bragging.

She had had the misfortune of falling victim to the charms of the Iron Islander. The man had already proposed that they run away together. Only the decorum of the occasion had prevented her from slapping him in the middle of the impromptu banquet. The young man had snuck in with a group of northern men, whom he had beaten at archery.

"Very impressive," said Sansa.

And it really was quite an incredible feat. Few could do such a thing. But the way the man bragged made her nauseous. He was like a little boy who had only one good quality. He was the son of the current Lord Greyjoy, Balon. He was third in line to inherit the lordship of the Iron Islands.

"I know, that's why it was no problem for me to win the tournament," he said as he took a glass of wine. "Won't you have a drink, my sweet lady?" he offered her a glass.

"I heard you came in third, Jalabhar Xho and a boy named Anguy surpassed you, my good lord," said Sansa, watching the ironborn's face sour.

She had tried to be polite, but his crude comments and bragging did nothing to make Theon seem likable. His eyes wandered too often, and Sansa even wondered if the clothes she was wearing that day were too revealing.

"What is Prince Jaehaerys like?" Now it was Sansa who was bitter. "I heard he fell off his horse... a pity for him. If My Lady feels lonely..."

"A dragon for a squid? Sounds like I ended up changing gold for copper," she said before walking away. "Let go of me, Lord Theon," she said. Theon had taken her by the wrist. "I'll assume the drink is clouding your judgment."

"Listen to me!" Theon quickly let go of her, as if remembering where he was. "I can make you my salt wife. The salt wife of the next Lord of the Iron Islands," he said confidently.

"Salt wife?" Sansa asked, as if the man in front of her had lost his mind.

"It's a lot for a woman with a bastard," he shrugged.

Sansa looked at him. He seemed drunk, but not drunk enough to say such stupid things out loud.

"The salt wife of Balon Greyjoy's third son," she scoffed. "It would be more prestigious to be the wife of Walder Frey."

"I will be the Lord of Pyke," he told her. Sansa walked away. She had already wasted too much time with this guy. She wanted to see her daughter; she didn't think it was right to make the little girl lose sleep over the banquet, so she had sent her to Jaehaerys. "Oh! You'd rather be the dragon's whore!" the man shouted at her.

Sansa didn't even stop, though she lowered her head as she walked. She felt a strong arm on her shoulder. "Father," she knew who it was before she looked up.

"Go, I need to have a word with young Greyjoy," Eddard said. Sansa smiled a little. Her father was a good man, protective. He wasn't one to allow anyone to disrespect his family in public. He was the man who wielded the sword.

'What would Jaehaerys do in this situation?' she wondered.

She watched him walk toward Theon, who was drowning himself in wine, and choked when he saw Eddard approaching. Sansa didn't hear what Ned said to him, but she certainly enjoyed the Ironborn's expression of pure panic.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

The melee was fast and frantic. It took only a few minutes before most of the men were out of action. At first, Jaehaerys held back a little with his rivals, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself. But later, it wasn't necessary. In the end, two of his men remained: Brandon and the Hound. The Blackfish and Balon Swann were also still on their feet. Balon seemed to be getting into everything.

Balon and Ser Sandor fought, perhaps seeking to resolve the conflict from the previous day. That left only Brandon and Blackfish.

"Goodbye!" Brandon threw his sword to the ground as Jaehaerys walked toward him. His reaction drew boos and laughter from the crowd, but the northerner didn't care at all.

"Here you are again," said Blackfish. "What will you do with the prize?" he asked. Jaehaerys glanced sideways at the other duel. They seemed evenly matched.

Sandor was incredibly strong and fast. He was a furious fighter. Balon, on the other hand, was more methodical and agile. Jaehaerys thought he was watching Brandon and Torrhen fight.

"How much did you offer the men?" asked the prince. He would pay what Brynden promised. A good reputation would serve him well.

"A total of about 30,000 gold dragons," said the man.

"I'll pay them. Although it seems you gave up before you even fought," commented the prince, extending his blunt sword toward the man.

Brynden shrugged before charging. The man was agile and direct. His movements were neither pretty nor elegant. They were effective. In terms of skill, he was quite good. Jaehaerys thought that all the warriors, except Ser Arthur, would have difficulty fighting him.

"Do you surrender, Ser?" he asked after disarming him.

The combat lasted a few minutes; it was a tournament, after all. However, many people seemed a little disappointed. Perhaps the previous day's pitched battle had set expectations too high.

"What else can I do?" Brynden said. "What is your name, boy?" he repeated the same question from the previous day.

"Jaehaerys," the prince replied.

Brynden's eyes widened in surprise, then he smiled and finally frowned as if he remembered that the prince had impregnated his niece.

"Clever, you took all the attention off yourself," he said without reaction, then walked away.

Jaehaerys watched the fight between Balon and the Hound.

Balon deserved the white cloak. The man fought with a spear, he was very good with it, managing to keep Sandor at bay. Jaehaerys couldn't bet on who would win the fight. Although Sandor seemed to grow more desperate with each passing second, he wouldn't be surprised if he made a fatal mistake.

Jaehaerys waited.

He waited.

And waited.

He continued to wait.

"You two against me," he said after growing weary. He lunged first at Balon, who managed to dodge him, then at Sandor. The man seemed irritated, which led him to hold nothing back against the prince to whom he had sworn allegiance.

Both men worked together, attacking the prince. Jaehaerys heard the crowd roar. He allowed himself to give them a show for a few minutes.

'Nah, I don't have that much patience,' Jaehaerys had already spent a lot of time on Blackfish.

His sword broke Balon's spear in one blow, took the upper half, and pointed the tip of the spear at Sandor's neck; his sword pointed at Balon's.

"Pah!" Sandor spat on the ground as he dropped his sword and limped away. Balon let go of the shaft of his weapon.

"My king wishes to meet the Knight of the Red Cloak," said the White Cloak with dignity.

'A man like that is wasted under Rhaegar's command,' thought Jaehaerys. Although Balon used to protect his mother, which was a good thing.

The cheers of the crowd numbed the prince's ears. He looked up at the stands. The king stood up with a smile on his face. He must be happy. Brandon had reported that the prince had fallen ill with a fever.

Jaehaerys walked over and stood in front of the man. The king looked down at him. He looked regal, and if the prince didn't know him, he might say he looked like the true king of Westeros. But Tywin seemed to have his spoon too deep in the soup.

"The king wishes to see your face, Ser," Balon said again.

Jaehaerys nodded as he removed his helmet. He looked at his brother's face, his pale skin suddenly turning paler, as if he were ill. Then he smiled, uncomfortably.

"The kingdom rejoices at your recovery, brother," he said softly.

The crowd shouted wildly. Partly out of confusion and partly out of joy.

"I wanted to enjoy the tournament a little as an unknown. I didn't want privileges," said the prince.

By 'privileges,' he meant not being attacked by a horde of 1,000 men. He wasn't sure how many men Rhaegar and Tywin might add to the melee if they knew he was going to participate. Speaking of the Lion, Tywin looked at him from his seat, not acknowledging his presence.

1.5 million gold dragons. Tywin had given him 1.5 million dragons. Jaehaerys had no doubt that Lord Lannister would give them to him. "A Lannister always pays his debts." He had a reputation to uphold, one he would not throw away. After organizing the tournament with the biggest prizes, he couldn't be seen as a liar.

He looked at Lord Eddard, who seemed to already know who he was. Bran and Arya cheered him on, even though the girl seemed to be shouting obscenities at him.

"Prince. Because, despite winning the joust, you were unconscious. It was decided that the winner of the Melee would be the one to crown a Queen of Love and Beauty," said Tyrion Lannister as he gently threw him a crown made of yellow flowers.

"In that case, I don't have to think too hard," said the prince as he took the crown in his gloved hand, walked toward the Stark box, and watched Ned's eyes widen as he began to sweat. It was indeed a sight to behold, although he didn't want to bring back bad memories. Jaehaerys paused for a second to pick up a spear, removed the tip, and hooked the crown onto it.

"Jaehaerys, no," even Sansa's voice seemed panicked. He didn't care.

"The most beautiful lady in this tournament is undoubtedly... little Rhaelle," Jaehaerys extended the crown toward Sansa, who was holding her daughter.

He felt Ned breathe easier, even Sansa, and was a little glad that the redhead didn't want him to crown her.

After the coronation, a stifling silence ensued, broken only by Queen Rhaella's applause. Soon, more lords joined in awkwardly.

Jaehaerys watched as Sansa placed the crown of roses on the little girl's head. His daughter applauded, imitating the audience, then removed the crown and tried to eat it. Sansa got the flowers out of her mouth in a second. The girl moved her mouth as if she were savoring the flowers.

Everything was laughter and joy, albeit forced for some, until he noticed his little baby beginning to cough uncomfortably. He watched his daughter's face turn purple, her little hands go to her own neck.

He looked at the man who gave her the crown, Tyrion, the Imp, who looked as surprised as Jaehaerys.

Jaehaerys would remember Sansa's scream for the rest of his life.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

"Someone tried to kill my granddaughter, Rhaegar!" Rhaella shouted at her son.

The king remained silent, although no one missed the vein that stood out on his forehead. The tournament almost turned into tragedy when Jaehaerys' daughter nearly lost her life.

"A bastard child. Don't let people know that you favor her," the king ordered, then softened his expression. "I am very sorry about what happened. We are investigating the source of the poison. It wasn't in the crown initially; someone added it at some point," he told his mother. Rhaegar had not attacked the little girl; it really wasn't him who put the poison there.

But who could have predicted that Jaehaerys would crown his bastard?

Who expected Jaehaerys to participate in the melee? Someone had beaten Rhaegar to it, and that made him feel uncertain. If Jaehaerys had crowned Rhaenys, one of the three heads could have been dewinged before they could fly.

"Bastard or not, she has dragon blood." Rhaegar wanted to frown; his mother seemed to have become quite close to the girl. "I don't know how Jaehaerys saved her, but I thank the gods that he did," he finally sighed.

"Yes... The gods have always favored my little brother," Rhaegar said monotonously, but there was envy hidden in every word.

"I want the Imp's head," said Rhaella.

"We don't know if it was him. There will be a trial, a proper investigation," said Rhaegar. He didn't really care much about Tyrion Lannister's life, but he was Tywin's son, not just any scapegoat.

"The Lannisters have been attacking the royal family for a long time, ever since this damn tournament began," said Rhaella, with the same calmness as a knight in the midst of battle. "Every time you let them get away with it, you look weak to the kingdom," she reproached him, trying to be tactful, but it was impossible.

"Watch your words, Mother," Rhaegar warned.

No one knew better than he what he was dealing with in every interaction with the Lannisters. They had a lot of power, and that favored the royal family, for the moment. But soon the time would come when the dragon would teach the lion its place. Melisandre had promised him. She had found a way to bring the dragon eggs to life. She needed sacrifice, and the battlefield was the ideal place.

His half-brother, Aegon Waters, would help him.

"You have been a good king," Rhaella calmed down a little. "But you cannot allow the Lannisters to feel that they are above us. What will happen to Aegon? Will Myrcella control him? A pawn of the Lannisters?"

'Over my dead body,' thought Rhaegar. Myrcella would be Aegon's third wife, a mere hostage, and her children would have no rights beyond the Rock.

"Peace is fragile," said Rhaegar. When the truth was that he lacked power, he lacked support. After the war, he granted the Lannisters too much freedom. They had ties to the Riverlands, and Tywin was raising the heir to the Vale. There were three kingdoms. Not counting the Stormlands and the North, which were very unlikely to support him.

"So is your will," Rhaella said as she turned and stormed out of the room.

'My will will save the kingdom, Mother. You are too blind to see the whole image,' Rhaegar thought, his fist clenching around the worn gold cup, the only cup from which he ever drank.

"The prince cannot..." The guard lost consciousness after his head hit the wall. Jaehaerys did not know if he killed him; he was just a poor idiot who got caught in his path.

He kept walking, knocking out every man who stood in his way. He didn't spill blood, not with his face showing. Finally, he reached the "cell," although it was more like a room in the Red Keep. Inside were the two Lannister brothers, Jaime and Tyrion.

"Jaehaerys," Jaime reached for the hilt of his sword. Jaehaerys's hand prevented him from drawing it. "You can't---" The panic in his eyes faded as he fell to the floor, unconscious.

Finally, he looked at the main suspect, Tyrion. At first glance, he didn't seem scared, sitting there with a glass of wine in his hand. Jaehaerys watched him sweat, his mismatched eyes darting around the room, except for him.

"Can you turn him over?" he asked, pouring another glass of wine for the prince.

Jaehaerys kicked Jaime, who ended up on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"It seems rather luxurious for what would be a prison," said the prince. There were books and a huge bed; he wouldn't be surprised if the dwarf were waiting for prostitutes to relieve the tension between his legs.

"You came unarmed," Tyrion pointed out. Jaehaerys took the glass from the table and spilled the wine on the floor. Then he closed his fist, and the glass gave way, left deformed like the face of the little man in front of him. "Impressive," said the dwarf. Tyrion tried to repeat the feat, but the metal did not yield, leaving only his fingerprints on the cup.

"You look so guilty," said Jaehaerys.

"Did you come to kill me?" asked Tyrion.

"It depends on your answers." The prince's voice was dry. He wouldn't mind killing the dwarf, but getting his men out of the Westerlands would be a mess.

He didn't know if Tyrion had poisoned his daughter; it was doubtful. Not even the Lannisters would be foolish enough to do that. If the Lannisters had known he would be participating in the tournament, they would have sent more men to participate. They could add men until they reached 100 participants. No one would say anything to them.

No, it was someone else, someone who knew he would participate, someone who hoped he would win. It wasn't the Lannisters, nor Rhaegar. The king's distraught expression was genuine.

"An interrogation, then? Is wine permitted?" Tyrion asked, raising the cup to his lips.

"Go ahead, it'll be like a last drink before I die," the Imp choked before laughing awkwardly, his eyes watering slightly. "I want to see your hand."

"Maybe it would have been better if I had stolen one of my sister's jewels. She left quite a few behind before she left," the dwarf joked lightly.

"Shut your mouth, or I'll shut it for you," Jaehaerys said, not in the mood for his nonsense.

The dwarf's hand was red and covered in small purple dots. The amount of poison on them was minimal, not enough to kill him for holding the crown for just a few seconds. No, whoever put the poison there planned for whoever wore the crown to absorb the poison slowly.

Strangler was the name of that poison. It wasn't a pleasant name, and its effects were even worse. In the series, the poison used to kill Joffrey was one of the most enjoyable scenes. It acted extremely quickly after being ingested. In this case, they placed it on the crown so the skin could absorb it. His daughter got that crown in her mouth, so the poisoning just accelerated its process.

Jaehaerys thought about those involved in the contest. At first, he thought the target was him, but there were other possibilities. Who had the best chance of winning? Balon Swann, Sandor Clegane, and the Blackfish. Who would they crown? Balon would likely crown someone from the royal family, probably Queen Rhaella, or Myrcella. Sandor would throw the crown on the ground or crown a random lady. The Blackfish would crown Sansa or Myrcella too, both of whom were his nieces.

"Who designed the crown? Who looked after it? Who delivered it?" asked the prince.

"Jaehaerys!" Eddard Stark entered the room with his guard following him.

"Ah, Lord Stark, you came?" Tyrion asked.

Ned calmed down when he saw the room was free of blood. He glanced at Tyrion, pure contempt contained in his gray eyes.

"I need to talk to you, Jaehaerys," he said before leaving the room. "Don't kill the Imp," he warned. Eddard probably wanted him dead, but he didn't want him to die without a trial.

"I don't know who designed the crown, or who looked after it, but it was given to me by a blonde girl, quite beautiful. A whore, I recognize them. I'm a good taster," Tyrion said.

'A whore,' thought Jaehaerys, leaving the room to meet Ned. He heard Tyrion vomiting inside the room after he left.

"You made a mess," Eddard said. "The Lannisters won't be happy."

"And do I look happy, Eddard?" Jaehaerys asked, his eyes fixed on Lord Stark's. "You spoke to Baelish, didn't you?" Ned's surprised expression told him everything. "I wondered why he hadn't come to the tournament. It turns out he was in the shadows."

'What other bastard would want to start a war?' Jaehaerys wondered.

"What? He told me that Tywin's brother, Kevan, bought the strangler from an Essosi merchant." Eddard gave up waiting for an answer.

"Do you know where Baelish is?" Eddard told him the brothel where the Master of Coin resided.

Probably Ned, innocent Ned, believed that Jaehaerys wanted to get information from Peter Baelish.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

Night fell, and the yellow color of Lannisport dimmed. Only slightly, though; it would not disappear completely, even if the sun went out.

The Golden Maiden

A giant golden sign outside a big building. Men entered carrying bags full of coins and always left carrying less.

Jaehaerys did not enter through the front door. After talking to Ned, he went to his mansion. He needed to eliminate several targets at once. He would start with Baelish.

The prince hunched over; it would be strange to see a ragged guy with a straight posture. He had to play a role. He wandered around the premises, observing. The sound of revelry and the fake moans of the prostitutes began to revolt his guts.

Finally, he entered through a window that was too low---an empty room, smelling of musk and fish. Jaehaerys resisted the urge to cover his nose, walked across the creaking wooden floor, and went out into the hallway. Outside, women were leading drunken men into rooms. All of them were beautiful blondes.

He walked through the building, passing each room, the same sounds coming from each. All the girls moaned in the same way, almost as if they had taken a course on the correct way to moan to please idiots. He couldn't find an office in any of the rooms.

"You look lost, good Ser," a mature voice said as it approached him.

She was too old to be a prostitute. The matron of the place, perhaps.

"And you seem like just what I need." Jaehaerys dragged her into a room. She laughed, surprised by how easily the man manipulated her.

"And do you have enough to pay me?" the woman asked coquettishly. Her eyelashes fluttered in the air.

"Do you accept steel?" Jaehaerys showed her a dagger inside his tattered cloak.

"GU-," Jaehaerys covered the woman's mouth.

"Shhh." Jaehaerys felt no satisfaction at seeing the woman's tears well up. "I didn't come for you. I came for someone else. I need their location. You'll be nice and give it to me, right?" The woman nodded frantically. The prince sighed, a little indecisive. "Peter Baelish." He whispered his name. The matron's eyes widened. "I know he's here, hiding like a rat. Take me to him," he asked.

He had risked saying Peter's name. He really hoped the woman would guide him correctly and not try anything dirty. He didn't want to kill her. But her neck would turn as easily as a windmill.

"Downstairs," she said when Jaehaerys loosened his grip on her mouth a little. "His office is downstairs." The prince nodded.

"Lead the way," the prince ordered. "If we walk into a trap, I'll kill you," he warned. The poor woman trembled like a frightened fawn. "Wipe your tears and compose yourself. Surely you know how to put on a brave face, don't you?" Jaehaerys was sure that her years of experience would serve her well that day.

The woman took a box of powder out of one of the drawers in the room, which seemed to be a standard feature in all the rooms. Jaehaerys watched the woman's movements, screamed, and brought the dagger to her neck.

"This way," the woman said quietly, feigning a smile, loosening her clothes a little, and dragging him out of the room.

The blonde woman took him downstairs to a room, even though she could hear activity inside. They didn't get many looks; the girls were used to situations like this. She stopped in front of the wooden door.

"Normally... normally there are six men in there," she warned him. "Under the bed, there's a trapdoor that leads to an office, that's where Baelish is," she tried to walk away.

"I hope you're not lying," said the prince.

Jaehaerys picked her up and pushed open the door, pretending to be drunk. Just as she had said, there were six men inside. Two were on top of a red-haired woman, who was moaning even though her face looked more dead than alive. The other four were in a corner, playing cards.

"Get out!" said one of them, mistaking him for a drunk.

"No room for one more?" Jaehaerys staggered, with the matron at his side, and the woman tensed.

"The table is full," said one, smiling.

"Ah, what a shame." Jaehaerys slit the man's throat. A second of shock as the men tried to react, the woman next to the prince let out a huge gasp at the sight of the blood. Jaehaerys dropped her to the ground.

Jaehaerys killed the other three just as quickly, slashing their throats. One raised his hands, but that only left him with one arm before he died. Another fell from his chair to the floor with a thud. The fourth managed to dodge the slash as he threw himself backward, fell to the floor, and before he could get up, Jaehaerys kicked his head against the floor. His brains splattered on the floor.

Then he threw a dagger at the face of one of the men fucking on the bed. The dagger missed, ending up hitting him in the neck. A stream of blood spurted out like a geyser, soaking the woman underneath.

'It's not that she is not used to fluids,' Jaehaerys thought.

The last man managed to react, pulling out of the woman as he tried to run out of the room. There was a crack! His face ended up on his back at 180°, and he fell to the floor.

Jaehaerys looked at the girl on the bed. She had stopped moaning abruptly and was staring at the ceiling. It was as if she had been programmed to moan when she was with a man; she didn't even react to the amount of blood on her body. She looked like a Pavlovian victim.

Jaehaerys looked at the bodies, some still twitching post-mortem. He felt only disgust at the sight of them, their blood staining his clothes.

The prince moved the bed, looked down at the trapdoor, and lifted it. There were steps down there, about 10 or 12 feet deep. There was silence. He couldn't believe Baelish hadn't heard anything.

"Ah... Madame," Jaehaerys called to the midwife. "Come with me," he dragged her down with him.

In the dim light of the room, a faint light shone. Jaehaerys stopped the dagger aimed at his face. He looked at the attacker's face, a short man with gray-green eyes and a pointed beard adorning his chin.

"Ah, Baelish, I didn't expect to see you here," said the prince. The man swallowed hard as he tried to free himself.

"I think there's been a misunderstanding, Ser." Baelish had not recognized Jaehaerys; he couldn't see his face.

"You tried to kill my daughter. Was she the target? Was it a miscalculation? I don't care," said the prince.

"I am a man with many contacts. I can give you a lot; you will gain more than you will get by killing me. What do you want? Women? Gold? Land?" The man whispered, his voice soft as silk. "I can give you all that," he offered, trying to seduce him into accepting.

"All that... I already have, Lord Coin," said the prince. "Get out of here, Madame," he said to the woman who was watching everything in terror. He showed his eyes to him.

"It's you, Ja-," the prince covered Baelish's mouth. When he saw the matron leave, he let him speak. "Is it because of Rhaelle? Horrible thing... I know. I know who was responsible," said Baelish.

"Of course, I don't think there's anyone who knows you better than yourself." The prince smiled.

"It was the Lannisters. I have witnesses who saw them buy---"

"Chaos is a ladder," the prince said. "In chaos, you would thrive. My daughter dies, and I rage and start a war against the Lannisters. Or perhaps you intended to kill Sansa? Myrcella?" Baelish smiled bitterly.

"The target was Myrcella. The tournament is in honor of her name day. Brynden had crowned her. The Hound probably would have too. So would Ser Balon Swann," said the man.

He directed the target toward the person with whom Jaehaerys had the least connection.

"Clever."

"The Lannisters have accumulated too much power..." said the little man.

"And that power... would be better in your hands, right? Myrcella dies, Lannisters against Targaryens. Chaos. Sansa dies, Stark against Lannister. Again, chaos. You thrive in chaos, while others fall down the ladder, you climb it..." Jaehaerys said, looking at Baelish's face.

"Your daughter was not the target, I swear, I would never harm Catelyn's offspring... I... I love her," he confessed through tears. "It broke my heart to see her suffer," he tried to convince him.

"I don't give a damn. My daughter almost died because of your obsession. If I let you live, you'll lead Stark to the Lannisters or to me. Eddard is a bad player. He doesn't understand bastards like you," said the prince.

"Let me live, and I'll tell you all the secrets of the kingdom. Your allies, your enemies... where there are opportunities, where a single move is enough to start a war. I'll be your right hand, your best man. I'll swear allegiance," Baelish pleaded. "I know who sent assassins to ArgentStone," he said, as if trying to tempt him.

"Your tongue is quite impressive," Jaehaerys said as he released his arm. Baelish sighed with relief for a second.

Jaehaerys's hand went into his mouth. He reached in, grabbed his tongue, and with a slow pull began to rip it out. The man screamed, kicked, and hit him, but Jaehaerys did not stop. He heard the tissues and muscles crack as blood began to pour from Baelish's mouth.

Teark!

With one last movement, Jaehaerys ripped out his tongue. The man curled up on the floor. Jaehaerys lifted his head, grabbing him by the chin, and made him look up at the ceiling. Blood began to accumulate and enter his airways, obstructing them.

Peter fought back, but he was no good at fighting. He was good with words and intrigue.

He began to spit blood upward, like a broken fountain. But even that did not save him. The retching continued unabated, and Jaehaerys' hands were covered in blood. The air smelled of iron, feces, and urine.

The man died thanks to his greatest attribute.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.

 

[Walder Black]

The Golden Maiden was the victim of a fire. The septons began preaching about the fury of the Seven against debauchery and degeneration. There were no deaths, only injuries from burns. That left room for speculation about who had caused it; it seemed like someone generous who felt guilty about killing innocents.

'Jaehaerys,' Ned thought bitterly. He had spoken to him, and he went and killed Peter Baelish. Peter was a friend of his wife, Catelyn; they had grown up together in Riverrun. Now he was dead, thanks to Jaehaerys.

"Why did you do it?" Ned confronted the man he had raised, though not in the best way.

"He tried to kill my daughter," said the prince. "Actually, my daughter was a mistake. His target was Myrcella or Sansa," he explained to Eddard.

"How can you be sure?" asked the man.

"Baelish confessed in the end." He explained. "He wanted a war, Eddard. In war, small men like him can climb," said the prince.

"Even so, if he was guilty," Ned wasn't entirely sure about that. "He should have been tried," said Ned.

"He was, I judged him myself," the prince said to Ned. "I questioned, judged, condemned, and killed him," he said in a firm voice. "I looked him in the eye as he died. Eddard, you once said, 'If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die. ... A ruler who hides behind paid executioners soon forgets what death is.' I looked him in the eye, and I heard him confess. He deserved to die." Jaehaerys remembered those exact words; he had heard them from Ned's lips and on the TV show.

"He deserved a trial," Ned said vaguely, though no longer with much force.

"Just like Joffrey. Where is he now?" he asked rhetorically. "You don't belong in the south. In the south, there is no honor. Duty doesn't matter. All that matters is climbing, no matter the cost," he said.

Ned remained silent, understanding what the prince meant. The intrigues in the south turned his stomach. But that didn't mean he was happy. The right thing was the thing that had to be done. Perhaps the only thing stopping Eddard from accepting that the prince was proper was that Baelish had not confessed publicly, that he had not heard him. If he had, perhaps it would have been Ice who cut off his head.

"She's asleep, Jae, don't make any noise," Rhaella scolded Jaehaerys when he entered Rhaelle's room. The little baby was healthy, her pale skin looking healthy. The only thing left of that horrible memory was those red marks on her neck, the baby herself had scratched her skin in desperation.

There was a silver necklace around the baby's neck, the same device Jaehaerys used to detect evil emotions and purify poisons. It was that necklace that saved Rhaelle's life.

The necklace had been vibrating since he entered Lannisport, in the Melee, in the streets, always sensing evil emotions. Those who wished to harm him were countless, so he learned to ignore the sensation.

The necklace now seemed weaker than when he first brought it; every day, it seemed as if its "battery" was running low. It was effective around the Weirwoods; their magic kept it working. But here, far from ArgentStone, it was like a tool with limited energy.

The baby opened her eyes, as if sensing her father's presence near her. She smiled, her uneven teeth bringing a smile to the prince's face.

The Queen Mother patted him on the head.

"She wants to be with her father," said Jaehaerys as he lifted the baby into his arms.

"Make sure she gets enough sleep," the queen mother said as she rose. "Tomorrow will be the Imp's trial, if he requests trial by combat. Kill his champion, who will surely be Jaime. Take two sons from Tywin," said Rhaella. Jaehaerys was surprised by the amount of hatred that overflowed with each word.

"Tyrion was not to blame. The culprit is already dead," said Jaehaerys.

"How?" Rhaella asked in surprise.

"A brothel burned down yesterday. Did you hear about it?" said the prince to his mother. "And they will need a Master of Coin... Tyrell, perhaps?" Having a Rose join the Privy Council would keep the king more stressed.

Of course, Rhaegar would only need to be stressed if he made it out of the Westerlands alive.

"Baelish... why?"

"The things a man does for love... and spite, are wonderful," said the prince. Rhaella seemed to remember something before leaving the room.

"I am glad to hear that."

Jaehaerys hugged his daughter to his chest, and the little girl laughed, as if he had tickled her. He looked around the room and saw a storybook on the nightstand. Rhaella had brought one to read to the baby. The woman who had asked him to deny the little girl was now spoiling her.

Jaehaerys picked up the book as he sat down with the baby on his lap.

He began to read to her, not in the common language. He wanted to teach her High Valyrian. She was his daughter; she had to know it. The baby clapped her hands, as if she understood every word.

"Wah-wah," the little girl pointed to a giant creature. Reptilian and winged. A dragon.

"Zaldrīzes," Jaehaerys said as he pointed to the creature. "It means 'dragon.' You'll get to know them when you live in my castle, there are three there," he told the little girl, who clapped her hands as she listened.

"Grraarrr!" the little girl roared, mimicking the dragon's open mouth.

"Dracarys," Jaehaerys pointed to the fire coming out of the animal's open jaws. "It means 'dragon fire'. We, the Targaryens, use it to let the dragons know that we want them to breathe fire," he explained calmly. "Little Rhaelle. We don't command dragons. We talk to them, and they understand us. Our control over them is not complete. I'll make sure you remember that. A dragon is not a pet," he kissed her head after giving her a little lesson she would forget in the next five seconds.

"Da-da-da," the little girl was about to say her first word, but she stopped.

He continued reading to his daughter until she began to doze off. Jaehaerys wanted to sing her a lullaby, but his voice was so horrible that it would make her cry. Luckily for him, a melodious voice came from the doorway. Sansa was a good singer, and the girl in his arms looked at her mother, her eyes sparkling with excitement before slowly closing them to the melody.

Jaehaerys finally laid her in the crib.

"Thank you," the northern woman whispered.

She hugged him from behind, burying her head in his shoulder blades. It was the first time they had interacted since Rhaelle nearly died. Jaehaerys clenched his teeth. He turned around and hugged Sansa gently. There was no desire or lust. There was the affection and respect he had for his daughter's mother. But, he would be lying if he said he felt nothing for Sansa.

But he loved Daenerys.

Agh!

The Prince of Scrolls was a stupid and bloody man.

Rhaegar continued writing, the ink staining his hands. He hadn't slept well. He hadn't slept because of the excitement. Jaehaerys was still alive, but his hatred was directed at the Lannisters, not at him. His little brother could prove useful and finish off every one of the lions, starting with the Imp. If Tyrion dies, Joanna will not rest; it will be a matter of time before a cold war, with daggers and poison, begins.

But that wasn't the reason Rhaegar was so happy. No.

It was because of Melisandre.

"Soon. I saw it in the fire. You will have your dragons soon," she said, her voice bewitching.

Rhaegar looked into the flames. First, he saw black. Then he saw three eggs break. One black with red markings, another green with bronze markings, and a third cream-colored with gold markings. Rhaegar initially had only two dragon eggs; the third came from his bastard brother, Aegon.

'If only Jaehaerys were so helpful.'

"The king works harder than anyone," he heard in the shadows.

"Who's there?" Rhaegar had been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice when he entered the room. "Jaehaerys," he said fearfully. The pen in his hands slipped from his sweaty grasp.

"I just wanted to stop by and say hello," said the prince. "I brought something to help you get that bitter taste out of your mouth. A fine wine, and it has a special touch," the prince took a flask from his clothes. Then he poured it into a worn golden cup. Jaehaerys felt the magic in the object.

"A special ingredient, you say?" Rhaegar looked at the wine suspiciously.

"Yes... It's called... give me a second to remember," the prince looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think. "Ah! Yes! It was the strangler," he said with a smile.

Rhaegar looked at the liquid. Then he emptied the cup in one gulp.

If you wish to read more you can go to https://linktr.ee/walderblack, already in chapter 150.