Chapter 19: Bloodraven's Autobiography
In the library of the Red Keep, a small figure stood quietly beneath towering shelves of ancient books.
Prince Rhaegar Targaryen barely reached the height of the lower rows, yet his pale lilac eyes moved steadily across the spines, thoughtful and intent. Within the Red Keep, it was already well known that the prince was precocious beyond his years. He had learned his letters early, had taken to music, arms, and history with equal fervor, and possessed a patience uncommon even among grown men.
There was a saying among the court that when Queen Rhaella carried the prince in her womb, she must have swallowed not only books and candles, but the heart of a lion as well.
Whether jest or praise, the truth remained: Prince Rhaegar excelled in both study and martial discipline.
King Jaehaerys II, watching his grandson from time to time, once remarked that the boy carried the shadow of Aegon the Conqueror and Baelor the Blessed alike—devout yet resolute, reflective yet firm. Where Aegon had possessed vision without learning, and where Baelor had possessed faith without steel, Rhaegar seemed poised to unite both.
Even Daeron II, remembered as Daeron the Good, had lacked martial vigor, while Aegon III, the Dragonbane, had ruled wisely yet coldly, scarred by loss. Rhaegar, it was hoped, would be different.
Thus, King Jaehaerys II granted the prince unusual freedom within the Red Keep. As long as he was properly guarded, Rhaegar was permitted to wander—from the training yard, where he observed knights at arms, to the depths of the castle's libraries, where dust and silence reigned.
The library had become his refuge.
Finding worthwhile books, however, was no simple task.
Long ago, Baelor the Blessed had ordered the burning of countless volumes—especially those concerning magic, prophecy, and the higher mysteries. It had been an act of piety, yet also a cultural calamity. Much knowledge had been lost forever to holy flame.
Though Grand Maester Pycelle possessed a private collection, Rhaegar did not trust the man's judgment. He preferred to begin with the Red Keep's own shelves.
Compared to feasts, tourneys, and intrigue, books were rarely sought here. Many volumes sat untouched for decades, like pearls abandoned in mud.
Rhaegar passed over treatises on theology and moral sermons from the Faith of the Seven.
These tell me what men wish the world to be, he thought. Not what it is.
His gaze lingered instead on a collection marked by age and neglect.
"Records of the Hands of the King…"
Here were the personal collections of men who had once ruled the realm in all but name.
Orys Baratheon, the first Hand of the King
Lord Unwin Peake, Hand and later Regent during the reign of King Aegon III
Lord Torrhen Manderly, Regent of the Seven Kingdoms
Some shelves held manuals on warfare and command. Others contained ledgers on taxation, agriculture, and trade. There was practical wisdom here—but little brilliance.
Noticeably absent were the writings of the Hand who had shaped an era.
Brynden Rivers.
Bloodraven.
His absence was conspicuous.
As Hand of the King under Daeron II Targaryen, and later as protector of the realm during the reigns of Aerys I, Maekar I, and the early years of Aegon V, Brynden Rivers had crushed three Blackfyre Rebellions. Some whispered that the Small Council had obeyed him more than the king himself. Others claimed even the Grand Maester had studied forbidden arts at his side.
Yet here, there was nothing.
They tried to erase him, Rhaegar realized.
Disappointed but undeterred, he continued browsing. At the bottom shelf of Lord Unwin Peake's collection, something caught his eye.
A hidden recess.
Carefully carved.
Within it lay a single book, its cover plain, its pages yellowed with age.
The title made Rhaegar's breath catch.
"My Autobiography — Brynden Rivers."
His heart raced.
Bloodraven—kinslayer, sorcerer, master archer, and Hand of the King—was a figure of shadow and legend. Even now, his name carried weight.
Rhaegar opened the book.
Blank pages.
His disappointment was immediate—until a sudden sting touched his finger. A drop of blood fell onto the parchment.
The book shimmered.
Words appeared.
"Fortunate Targaryen. Your life's fire burns bright enough to read what I have written. Though I now wear black, I still enjoy leaving a little mischief behind."
Rhaegar almost smiled.
So like him, he thought.
Only half the book was visible. The rest remained blank.
Perhaps, Rhaegar suspected, the remainder required greater "life's fire" to awaken.
A chime echoed within his mind.
Achievement Unlocked: Explorer
(You have discovered the autobiography of Lord Brynden Rivers. Some histories are written in ink. This one is written in blood.)
Another followed.
Achievement Unlocked: Game of Thrones
(You have read the life of Brynden Rivers, one of the most cunning Hands in history. Knowledge gained.)
The Life Tree within him responded.
The first line read:
"I loved one brother, hated another, and desired a woman."
Rhaegar understood at once.
The brother he loved was King Daeron II.
The brother he hated was Aegor Rivers, known to history as Bittersteel.
The woman he desired—above all others—was Shiera Seastar.
Blood and desire intertwined, as ever, in the House of the Dragon.
The autobiography continued, stark and honest. Brynden Rivers wrote of spies, secrets, and sacrifice—of choosing darkness so the realm might endure light. There was no mysticism, no glamour. Only cold truth.
Among the final pages lay something extraordinary.
A map.
The hidden passages of the Red Keep.
Rhaegar closed the book slowly.
This knowledge, he knew, would change everything.
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