Hail

Kingslanding – The Throne Room

Aerys' funeral had been one that lasted seven days, with the seven bells ringing loudly for the King's death, many of the cities people had come to see the King who had caused them such hardships up close – he did not look so mad. Perhaps that was because he lay resting on the stone bed and his finger was not directed at his next victim.

It was not known that Rhaegar had killed his father, bar from those who had witnessed it – and Rhaegar trusted them with the secret. They swore to never speak of it. To everyone, Aerys had died peacefully in his sleep, taken by the Crone in the dead of the night as his path dictated. Arianne had suggested Rhaegar stay in the Kings room, as a bloody Prince walking about the Keep, even if the Kinds room to Rhaegar's room was a short walk, someone would see. She had also dragged him to the Kings private bath, having had a maid leave water outside she made sure to get every last stain of blood from Rhaegar's body.

He had taken off his decorated jacket and found one that the King had worn in his younger days. It still felt wrong, wearing his father's clothes. Wearing the clothes of a man he'd killed. Wearing the clothes of his father, who he killed. He watched solemnly as the pregnant Arianne wiped the floor clean with a rag, the pristine white of Arthur's cloak now with spots of brown at its ends. He couldn't even bear to watch as the King was lifted from the floor by Jaime and Otto, undressed by Arianne and redressed by Arthur. Arianne instructed Jaime to pick up the dirty bucket of water and he threw out as quietly as he could outside. She held her hands behind her back and winced.

Rhaegar watched Arianne called for Nymella once she could take no more, and the young Toland girl cleaned the King's mouth and swore to be the one to clean him for his funeral.

They were now stood in front of the summoned Southern lords and ladies, with many pledging alliances to Rhaegar against Brandon now Aerys was dead.

The Throne room had been hastily decorated, not to lavish extents, but it looked as if a Prince was to enter and King to leave from it. Rhaegar and Arianne were stood in front of the High Septon, near the Iron Throne, with pillows at their feet. Rhaegar held a sword by his side, one that was much bigger than the one he had wielded as a Prince, he wore his dark armour with a jewelled three-headed dragon at its heart. Arianne stood next to him, wearing a dark red dress in an effort to blend in with Rhaegar. It was loose-fitting, modest and had sleeves that stopped at her elbows.

The High Septon shuffled from Julian, who Rhaegar had begged forgiveness of and asked to stand by his side, and took the Prince's new crown into his hands. He instructed Rhaegar and Arianne to kneel on the pillows provided for them, which they did – Arianne needing a little help as she could not go as far down.

He held the large crown over Rhaegar's head, it wasn't Aerys' and was one that Rhaegar had commissioned in haste. There was no way he'd wear the same crown that saw his father to insanity. This one was dark, with large red jewels placed at key points. He had a similar one for Arianne made, but hers had smaller and daintier jewels thrown around it in no particular fashion.

"May the Warrior grant him courage, may he be given the strength to protect the realm and may he be protected in these dark times. May the Smith grant him strength and that he might bear this heavy burden. And may the Crone, she that knows the fate of all men, show him the path he must walk and guide him through the dark places that lie ahead. In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Rhaegar of the House Targaryen First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Long may he reign," he placed the crown over Rhaegar's freshly washed hair, it was growing and had been braided neatly to keep from falling in front of his face.

He felt the crown placed onto his head, and as light as it was, he couldn't help but feel it was as heavy like a rock on top of his head.

"Long may he reign!" Those in the room cried out, smiles etched on some of their faces.

The High Septon then took Arianne's crown from Penelope, "may the Mother grant her safe passage for our next Kings and Princes, may she see it fit to provide our lands with everlasting and bountiful harvests. May the Maiden grant her protection, beauty and innocence for her daughters to come, may she watch over our King as a wife would. In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Arianne of House Targaryen First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men and Lady of the Seven Kingdoms. Long may she reign," he placed the crown on her head.

"Long may she reign." The chant wasn't as loud as Rhaegar's has been, understandably.

The people had been itching for his reign – and now all he had to do was prove himself to them. This war was the perfect way to do so.

...

Northern Camp – One week from Kingslanding

"Why have they made it so easy for us!?" Lord Umber shouted over Hoster Tully, frustrated at the Riverland's lord for not understanding him.

"Because they are weak," Roose interjected, nodding to Brandon proudly.

They were sat around a small wooden table, map sprawled out, and small pieces of dragons and wolves and other small wooden figures spread around it. "Don't be ridiculous. The King is dead, Rhaegar is King now. He will not keep the same council his father had and there are rumours Tywin Lannister is with him. Tywin would never leave his home unless there was something – considerably important in it for him. Besides, they have some forty thousand men waiting for our arrival at Kingslanding!" Jon exclaimed, not wanting to explain himself anymore. Hoster and many of those at the table nodded in understanding. "Whether they are waiting to ambush us, waiting to draw us into their homeland, they're up to something."

Either than the few refusals and petty battles against internal houses in the Riverlands and Stormlands, they had an easy time cutting down seats of many houses. Of which they found most of them empty, bar the standing guard, with no lords or families to be seen.

"They are all in Kingslanding waiting for you Brandon. We have to find a way to draw them out slowly," he insisted once more.

Brandon had already known this; he lifted his finger to his lip. "How do we do that?"

"Ask Rhaegar for a one on one, just the two of you – and we will cut him down as soon as he steps from those gates," Robert laughed, Brandon joined him. It did sound like something they could pull off.

"That is not who we are," Ned reminded them. "They would have your head before you could even blink. Rhaegar would never meet you alone. He is too -,"

"Gentle, kind, the People's Prince and so on yes we've heard," Brandon groaned rolling his eyes. Suddenly it occurred to him, he indicated Roose forward with his head as those around him spoke, Jon Arryn had even suggested attempting to sack the city, but Hoster countered that the gates would be closed as soon as they were spotted.

"Sire?" Roose's deep voice whispered as he bent down to hear Brandon.

"Can you get into the city? Unseen?" There was no one else he'd trust with this task other than Robert – who would be recognised as being a frequenter of Kingslanding in his younger days. Roose nodded back in response, their conversation was cut short by the tent flap opening and revealing Gerald Tully, the very same one they had sent as a messenger.

The young boy held his right hand close to his chest and in the other a bloodied bag.

"What is the meaning of this!" Hoster barked, standing from his seat to inspect the boy. "What happened? Who did this to you!?"

"Tywin Lannister, he said ...," he threw the bag onto the table, the dried blood rubbing off lightly onto the map. "This is what waits for you at Kingslanding," Gerald looked directly at Brandon. The young boy looked tired, thirsty and hungry.

Brandon pushed himself from the chair and opened the bag, covering his nose at the stench. It was a hand, nearly purple now, but a hand, nonetheless.

"Do you see?" Jon Umber repeated, "The new King has Tywin with him, we must lure them out."

"Yes. We see perfectly well," Hoster replied, ushering the boy from the room.

Brandon felt his jaw clench, he pulled Roose closer. "Ride day and night if need be. Go to Kingslanding. Now." Roose nodded, bowing as he left the room in a rush.

"We should rest, for now, we'll try and come up with something tomorrow," Ned said, sensing the discomfort in the room as the opened bag that revealed the dismembered hand lay on the table.

"I will see you at sun break my lords," Brandon said as they left the tent, bowing to him as they did. He followed after them, blowing out the candles dotted around the tent and making his way to his own tent.

A small hand wrapped around his shoulders as he closed the flap behind him, he sighed and closed his eyes, the worries of the world leaving him. "Hello, my King."

...