Viserys met Lord Bloodraven in the secret forest tree hollow beyond the Wall, in his true form. He was over a hundred years old, with white hair and one red eye open. The price of becoming a Greenseer was too high. Viserys saw that he was emaciated, merged with a white weirwood, with roots and leaves growing from his body, and mushrooms covering his forehead—Viserys couldn't bear to look, it was too miserable.
He wanted to cover the old man with a fur coat, but Bloodraven shook his head. The weirwood roots parted, revealing a slender Valyrian Steel Sword.
"It's yours," he said slowly.
Viserys didn't want to simply take Dark Sister. He knew this man had once been an unparalleled archer—so he shamelessly lingered, begging to learn.
Even after becoming a Greenseer, it was better to eat things that people ate, wasn't it? Seeing how thin he was—he plucked the feathers from a snow grouse, built a fire, and roasted it until it was fragrant, the smell wafting into the cave.
Then, Viserys held a large chicken leg and chicken wing and offered them to the old man's mouth as an offering.
"Children of the Forest or Greenseers, it doesn't say you can't eat meat! And trees absorb nutrients and grow better..." he muttered, "like the cherry tree with the corpse buried beneath..."
"You must take care of yourself! You can't let Bran Stark get you early... I hope you live for a few more centuries, at least to witness us Targaryens defeat the Night King and unite the continent, right?"
Lord Bloodraven slowly ate the food being fed to him, which reminded him of his time as a human. The meals he shared with Daeron in the Hand's Tower...
The long-lost taste stirred Lord Bloodraven's human emotions. He finally displayed a Weirwood Bow, his most familiar weapon. It was a testament to his glory: during the ambitious Blackfyre Rebellion, the Lord led the Raven's Teeth to conquer the Weeping Ridge, and at three hundred yards, he had shot Daemon Blackfyre and his twin sons with three arrows.
He trained Viserys, guiding him in dreams.
Viserys was resolute, planning to send Robert to the afterlife from three hundred yards away if he dared to rebel.
He stood in the biting wind and snow, his purple eyes sharp, drawing his bow and string—Die, usurper!!
The arrow shaft whistled out steadily! It tore through the cold air, hitting the distant target precisely!
At the same time, thousands of miles away in Storm's End, the acting Lord Robert felt a chill in his chest. He wrapped himself in a velvet cloak and had his servant make the fire in the fireplace burn even brighter. Then, he smacked his lips, tore off a piece of wild boar leg and chewed it, and had his attendant pour him a glass of ale produced by the Earl near King's Landing—what a wonderful taste! It was worth ten times more than the red wine from Highgarden! Robert didn't care how much it cost; he just wanted to drink heartily—Yes! He was going to send someone to buy another batch!
The only regret was that he could only drink alone in Storm's End. Ned Stark of the Stark family was far away in his hometown—he had had such a good time with him while he was recovering from his injuries in Winterfell! Such delicious wine should be enjoyed with a good friend!
Maybe I'll take a few kegs up north. If I get the Stark Lord drunk enough, he'll agree to the marriage. Robert thought, his face flushed with the effects of the alcohol, though he wasn't drunk. He saw Stannis, his brother, leaving the hall. "Hey! Come have a drink with me, brother!"
Stannis refused, his face stern. Robert felt a surge of annoyance at the expression. "Don't you ever smile?"
"I don't find anything amusing," the boy replied. "Especially when I see you getting fatter."
Robert waved him away, irritated. At least he had another brother at Storm's End!
Little Renly was much more agreeable! Polite, handsome, and at seven years old, he adored his elder brother. Robert thought of the wretched Viserys, whose feelings for his brother were quite genuine. Where had that boy disappeared to these past few years?
Robert initially ground his teeth, remembering how Viserys had abandoned him when he was wounded, even though he was a squire. But later, he found that having a bastard did seem to be a real problem for marriage... His mother was worried sick about it, but he only wanted to marry Lyanna. Could she accept... a certain established fact? At least in the Stormlands, Robert had found a barmaid he'd slept with before, and discovered she'd borne him a daughter. Black hair, blue eyes, absolutely adorable.
Robert followed the example of most nobles, providing support and settling them. But this made Lyanna's beautiful image seem even further away. He really liked that fiery little beauty! A beautiful direwolf that bared its teeth.
Lost in thought about how to propose again, Robert received a raven with news: the Lord of Riverrun was holding a grand tourney at Harrenhal in the spring! The prize for team combat was a staggering fifty thousand Gold Dragons! This drew the attention of the great lords from all over, who planned to attend!
"Will the Starks of the North be attending?" Robert immediately wrote to his friend Ned, urging him to persuade his siblings to witness the event – he'd reforged his hammer! This time, he would definitely wash away the terrible impression he made on Lyanna!
"I implore you, my good brother, give me a chance to redeem myself. Don't let your sister think I'm a useless fool. It's about a man's dignity, a knight's honor, and I ask for nothing more, my dear Ned."
A raven flapped its wings across vast plains, mountains, and swamps, landing on the window of the maester in Winterfell. In fact, as a great lord, the Stark Duke had already heard the news of the Lord of Riverrun's lavish spending. This made him ponder... How did the Lord of Riverrun suddenly become so wealthy? His generosity was no less than that of the Lannisters of the Westerlands? There was someone providing him with a large sum of money... Rickard had a guess about this.
After receiving the news that the Crown Prince would definitely attend, he pondered for a while and formally summoned his four children, telling them to prepare the whole family to go and observe this rare grand event, and by the way, pass through Riverrun to discuss the specific wedding date of Brandon and Catelyn with the Tully Duke.
The children were all very happy. The Duke looked at his most reserved second son, Ned, and thought, maybe I can find him a suitable fiancée at the Harrenhal tournament. He heard that when he was in King's Landing, he danced with Arthur Dayne's sister... If his judgment of the future was accurate, this would be a good match.
A few years ago, because Viserys went missing, and his son was taken to King's Landing for questioning, the Stark Duke, combining Ned's account of what he saw and heard, affirmed the Crown Prince's character and deduced the alignments of some figures: Arthur Dayne and Jon Connington were undoubtedly the arms of Crown Prince Rhaegar. Dominic of the Dreadfort in the North was also serving by his side, as was the Tully's adopted son – these young people were not simple.
After Crown Prince Rhaegar clarified the facts, he courteously entertained his son and sent people to escort him out of the city. As for the king, he initially wanted to interrogate Ned. How... crazy! Did he think the Targaryen family still had dragons? The Starks of the North would no longer kneel without a fight.
The Duke let his two adult sons participate in the jousting tournament to show the strength of the Northmen. As for Lyanna, she was to participate in another battle without smoke. Jewels and fine clothes were her armor, and her beauty was her strength. As for the winner's prize – the Crown Prince's wife, the future queen's title.
The Stark Duke examined his sixteen-year-old daughter, who had blossomed into a graceful young woman. She was becoming more and more beautiful, her cheeks flushed, her body healthy, truly living up to the name Winter Rose! Although Prince Viserys's whereabouts were currently unknown, the Duke remembered him saying that Rhaegar favored women like Lyanna... Lyanna could ride, shoot arrows, and fight with a sword! Now the time and age were right! Why not just let her appear before the Crown Prince?
"Lyanna, bring your new gowns and jewelry. Bring several sets, especially the blue velvet one; you look like a blooming rose in it," he instructed.
Lyanna shrugged, "Alright, but that's for banquets. I'll be riding in simple clothes for the journey, not in a carriage."
Her father agreed.
Lyanna was a clever girl. In the bottom of her trunk, beneath the luxurious and heavy gowns, she stuffed the knight's armor she had painstakingly gathered: well, all from the scattered parts of the armor of her three openly trained brothers. She had been collecting pieces for years, not missing any opportunity to get her hands on them!
I can ride all the horses. Hmm, now I just need a lance. But, Benjen's things are my things — maybe I can find a chance to fight the men! Finally, she pressed the smallsword that Viserys had given her a few years ago beneath layers of dresses. This was one of the birthday gifts sent to the North by Crown Prince Rhaegar, a slender blade that suited a smaller hand! The Crown Prince was very thoughtful in choosing gifts, considering his brother's age. He loved Viserys very much.
Over the past few years, Winterfell had received several groups of search parties sent by the Crown Prince. Sigh, I don't know where Viserys is. Lyanna thought somberly, He's been out of touch, but he should still be alive, right?
Another year in King's Landing, the snows melting. According to statistics, not a single body was found frozen or starved in the streets during the past winter. This was thanks to the brown soup kitchens, where the elderly, women, and children could receive two bowls of hot soup every day. The soup was incredibly filling: wheat, potatoes, white and orange carrots, scallions, and large chunks of stewed wild boar! Sometimes it was rabbit meat—people whispered that these foods came from a certain important person in the Red Keep… He led the hunting parties in the royal forest, donating all the spoils to the soup kitchens. Who else could it be but Crown Prince Rhaegar?
"May the Seven Gods bless him," the women and the weak muttered in their makeshift "public houses," seeking shelter from the wind and rain, while the men raised their cups in the cheap taverns. "There's hope for the future!"
The hope they spoke of, Crown Prince Rhaegar, returned from the training grounds in a black helmet. He went straight to the tower where his brother used to live and stood silently by the window, looking out—he could see his own room.
For a long time, he had been accustomed to gazing in that direction every night, waiting for the candlelight to be extinguished, for his energetic brother to fall asleep, before he could rest easy himself. But four years ago, the owner of the tower had never returned, and every night he could only see darkness.
Rhaegar gazed out over the clustered buildings of King's Landing, the swiftly flowing Blackwater Bay—he also wanted to follow every ship along the mouth of the bay, wanted to ride the wind to where his brother was… Where exactly was he? Little rascal.
He touched his chest. Rhaegar kept Viserys's last letter, received four months ago, close to him. It was very brief, only one sentence: My dearest brother, I will be back with you soon!
Soon?
He felt it necessary to correct his brother's concept of time—of course, after he returned. Rhaegar was desperately tracking down his clues. The parchment had been delivered to the Red Keep by Wylla, who said it was brought by a merchant from White Harbor. Rhaegar went to great lengths to find this merchant, who replied that he had a relative who was a sailor on a ship, delivering the letter for a companion…
Oh, so his brother became a sailor? Out having fun and forgot to come home? Rhaegar comforted himself, thinking at least, perhaps his brother and he were still looking up at the same starry sky.
Jon Connington entered the prince's tower. He gazed at Rhaegar, who had removed his helmet, revealing his silver hair. The Earl's gaze was firm and gentle—he brought two pieces of good news.
The first was the ledger sent by Petyr, who was already holding an important position in the customs office. It was enough to prove that the customs minister was embezzling. This man was a confidant of Colton, the King's favorite, and the king would likely not spare him after seeing this. Dungeons, torture, and even burning at the stake awaited this parasite.
"Also, Your Grace," he said softly, "the King has summoned Varys. I believe Varys will tell the King that the nobles will gather at Harrenhal to discuss whether to convene a Great Council to discuss the King's health and your ascension to the throne."
Rhaegar hummed for a long time.
"Then Father will definitely go to Harrenhal himself, to keep an eye on me and to prove that he is in good health," he said lightly. "Well then, let the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms, who will come upon hearing the news, see Father's true condition."
Aerys, who believed that Rhaegar had killed Viserys and might even kill him, had not cut his hair or nails in recent years, and refused any attendants holding sharp objects to approach him. Anyone who saw him would know that he was half-mad.
...
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(End Chapter)