#rhaegar lives

Rhaegar allowed himself a moment to study his now father-in-law. He has not been sleeping well, Rhaegar concluded, observing the dark circles under Rickard Stark’s eyes. Something worries him.

“What do you mean by that, Lord Stark?” 

“Trying times lay ahead of us, Your Grace,” Rickard Stark said with a sigh. “The North will need any support the Crown may have to offer to face it.”

Rhaegar could see the sincerity and the worry in Lord Stark’s words. Ominously, prophecies of long ago, that de discussed extensively with his uncle Aemon, came to his mind. The song of ice and fire, preluding the end of the world of men. And the Prince that Was Promised, a worrior of shining hope amidst the doom.

The king of the Seven Kingdoms could not help but feel the room colder.

The door to Lord Stark’s study opened, giving space to a smilling Daenerys. Her purple eyes shined when she saw her brother. She rushed her steps towards Rhaegar, going as fast as her little legs could carry her.

“Brother, come quickly” she grabbed Rhaegar’s hands, excited.

“Princess Daenerys, you should greet Lord Stark first”, he chided. Inwardly, though, he could not help but smile. Rhaegar, then, messed with her silverly-golden hair.

“But Aemon and I have found dragon eggs!” she urged. Rhaegar stopped messing with her locks, too stunned to say or do anything. “You must come quickly!”

Inspired by @fromtheboundlesssea’s Into the Unknown series and @j-morgan-fly​‘s fic, The Snow Bound Dragon. Rhaegar lives and Aerys and Rhaella’s other children also lives.

Rhaegar, Viserys and Daenerys are the only children of Aerys and Rhaella who grew to adulthood, their other siblings died young. But, what if all their children lived?

Robert’s rebellion is crushed and the Targaryens still rules the Seven Kingdoms. After the death of King Aerys II, the new king, Rhaegar, pardoned the rebels, including the Lannisters, for their crimes against the Crown.

Rhaegar’s younger siblings and his children knew what he had done. What Aerys had done. Ever since then, they atone for their family’s sins, in their own way, to secure the peace in the kingdom.

But peace is a fragile thing. It takes courage to secure it. It takes wisdom to maintain it. And... winter is coming. Will the Seven Kingdoms unite against the imminent threat to the North before it’s too late?

Children of King Aerys II and Queen Rhaella Targaryen:

Headcanons I:

Aerys thought of betrothing Shaena to Rhaegar, but she refused, insisting that she doesn’t wanted an unhappy marriage like her parents. So, she married Daeron, her younger brother, who she has a close relationship with. This prompted Aerys to find a bride for Rhaegar of “proud Valyrian blood”.

Tywin refused the betrothal between his children, Cersei and Jaime, to Oberyn and Elia, because Tywin wanted his daughter to marry Rhaegar.

Tywin proposed a marriage between his daughter Cersei and Prince Rhaegar. Aerys reject the offer rudely, and instead betrothed Rhaegar to Princess Elia Martell, to spite Tywin (because he’s crazy).

In this AU, Rhaegar took advantage of Lyanna and abducted her before she could marry Robert.

When they heard that Rhaegar ran off with Lyanna, they’re enraged. Rhaegar’s younger siblings symphatize with Elia and took turns in taking care of her and her children.

The Targaryen siblings already HATED their father, and later, Rhaegar, for their actions sparked a rebellion.

Robert died in the battle. Lyanna died in childbirth. Elia lives.

Stannis becomes Lord of Storm’s End and Renly as his heir.

Viserys isn’t mad in this story. He has a mother-figure (Shaena) who took care of him, the same with Daenerys.

Viserys, with the help of his older siblings, withstood the abuse he received from his father. He’s suffering from night terrors ever since.

Daenerys is currently chillin’ in Dorne.

Whatever Rhaegar’s scheming (because of his obssession with the “three-headed dragon” prophecy or TPTWP), they always thwarted it in their on way.

They’re DONE with Rhaegar’s bullsh*t and they tolerate his shenenigans when they’re in public.

Next is Rhaegar’s children: Rhaenys, Aegon, and Jon. Yeahhh. Tamzin Merchant is my fancast for Daenerys.

𝟐𝟖𝟒 𝐀𝐂, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐄𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐬

━━━━━━━━━━━━

The question came like a blow to the chest, much akin to the war hammer that had once threatened to break apart his chest cavity on the banks of that damned river. He should have expected it, really; Viserys was a wise child. He had known about Rhaegar's children, despite never meeting them. No, Aerys had kept Viserys far from his 'Dornish smelling' daughter and son.

"What happened to Rhaenys and Aegon and Lady Elia?" Viserys had questioned. Rhaegar was not surprised that he had forgotten; it had been a year since they had left Westeros, six months since they had been welcomed to the home with the red door and the lemon trees. He would have blocked those memories out.

Yet, it did not stop Rhaegar's heart from stilling within his chest, for his breath to catch in his throat, for his blood to turn from dragon fire to ice.

"... They were killed, Viserys." He spoke softly and simply before excusing himself. The answer had pleased the boy well enough, it seemed.

His footsteps trailed through the winding hallways until he found himself within the small garden. His mind had drifted to golden skin, honey brown eyes, and a laugh like windchimes. Elia had stolen his breath the moment they had first met; she held a mischievous air about her that her siblings also shared. She had met him step for step in any conversation they had held.

She had danced circles around him with the stories she knew. And he had sung ballad after ballad for her as she laid in their bed upon their wedding night. She had been a gentle soul, truly, but she was a Martell at heart. Fiercely protective- he remembered the first time she had yelled at him. It had been before the Tourney, before she knew of the prophecy.

She had been beautiful, and she was dead.

'𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘋𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦,' 𝘌𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳. '𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.'

'𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘩, 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦.'

That promise was never filled.

A sob tore free as he sank to his knees before a lemon tree. Rhaenys has been five. Aegon barely more than a year old. They were children. They were dead. His children.

'𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦, 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘢!' 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘯𝘺𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘙𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘥. '𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘑𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘺!'

Rhaenys, with her lavender eyes and her dark hair. Aegon, with his silvery blond hair and honey brown eyes. His children.

The sound of a baby wailing had his heart clenching painfully. For a brief moment, he was back in King's Landing, upon a balcony. He could hear Elia singing softly in Dornish to calm Aegon. Rhaenys was seated before him, grinning a tooth-gapped smile.

He blinked. He was alone.

A part of him died that day, with his wife and children.

He wasn't sure if that part would ever resurrect, or if the hollow pit within his heart would continue to sit, a constant reminder of the ones who he had failed.

Elia Martell-Targaryen.

Rhaenys Targaryen.

Aegon Targaryen.

Aerys Targaryen.

Rhaella Targaryen.

Lyanna Stark.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, indigo hues darkened. He stared down at his hands, at the blood that had begun to drip from crescent shaped cuts within his palms.

Daenerys wailed.

My entry for the second day of @jonsadreamofspring

Day 2 wolves / traitors / bastards

They called her the Red Wolf but when she was standing under the Weirwood tree, she reminded him of a frozen statue. She didn’t look at him, not even once, since when they met yesterday, her blue eyes trained ahead of her. The wedding in the custom of the Old Gods was her only request. Still, his father wasn’t pleased, talking behind the closed doors about the blasphemy of it all. But Jon felt only calm surrounded by the trees and overwhelming cold of the North. It was so different from the stuffed air in the Kings Landing, refreshing even. He felt like he could fit amongst these men, better than in the stiff frames of his role as the Prince of the Realm, as he wasn’t anything his father was hoping for. No match for the King, almost a bastard, not fit to ride the dragon and charm foreign guests.  

As he could see now, noticing how Sansa stiffened every time he had to touch her, even a smallest brush of his fingers against hers leaving her frozen. Somehow, it seemed to be fitting the surroundings, as he felt her older brother’s glare on the back of his head. As if he had more choice in this than them.

He also was a prisoner here, after all.

***

They hadn’t stayed in Winterfell very long. His father had bigger plans and gave them little abandoned castle in The Gift, barely fitting for the Prince and Warden of the North.

It was perfect.

His wife didn’t seem to think so but kept her thoughts to herself. He didn’t know how to talk to her, when her only answers seemed to be ‘No, my Lord’ or ‘It’s no problem, my Lord’. He had no illusions about their marriage, but he grew more and more irritated with each passing day. He just wanted a companion, somebody to hold onto in this foreign land, odd, but at the same time strangely fitting for him.

He glanced at his lady wife sitting at the other end of the table. Just as he seemed at home North, he thought the South would suit her, with its delicate words, gallant knights and beautiful songs played by his brother every knight. Right now, the only thing that broke silence was his knife grating the plate.

He knew she hold back the scowl, the perfect Lady she was.

***

Jon saw her glancing at him. Sansa maybe thought he didn’t notice, but after a few months spent together in this silent limbo, he was attuned to her every move and expression that she let slip past her walls. And so, he waited for her to do that again, trying to cover her interest with fumbling for thread or looking at the pattern. He sighed and moved the letters in her direction. She stopped her moves, stunned. Jon smiled, as he didn’t think he would ever see his lady wife this out of control.

“You probably are better than me, my Lady” he managed to say, wincing at how awkward way he sounded. Sansa studied him silently, carefully, looking like she was ready to bolt at any moment. Jon stayed as still as he could, trying not to fidget under her scrutiny. Finally, she apparently saw something that calmed her down and gingerly reached for the papers.  

Jon observed her as she closely examined the words, caught up in the way she looked illuminated by candles. It was rare event, when he could just take her in, as she usually avoided his attentions.

By Gods, she was beautiful, the kind of woman his brother would write songs about, unattainable and out of reach for him most of the times. But right now, as she started quietly advising him, pointing the things he would never see for himself, she was closer to him than she ever was before.

***

Sansa endured the difficulties of the travel better than he thought. His lady wife carried unexpected strength inside her, one that he rarely had privilege to see. She also preferred to join him on the horseback and the company wasn’t unwelcome. With her soft voice carrying the stories about the North, the days went past in a blink of an eye and with her example, their men started warming up to him; not only showing respect that he managed to gain but also some sort of rough sympathy.

Jon snickered; only Northmen would be capable to do such a thing and make it seem to be the highest compliment.

Nearing the Winterfell, Sansa became quieter, franticly looking around and radiating silent excitement. Though she would never break unspoken rules, she looked as if she was ready to run ahead of the company. Jon smiled fondly, he highly enjoyed the moments Sansa let her guard down a little and let him see real her, the strong woman that made his heart skip a bit.

Sudden rustling tore him from his thoughts. He raised his hand stopping Sansa and quietly summoned their guards. They followed him obediently into the forest near the road. Surprisingly, amongst the trees they didn’t find group of rebels or maybe assassins trying to find the cover in the forest, but a dying she-wolf with four little ones. Jon immediately dismounted the horse, mesmerised by the sight. He cautiously stepped forward, minding the grown direwolf; he had never seen a creature so huge and yet he couldn’t help himself.

The little ones were barely walking. His attention was drawn to the smallest one, white with red eyes and it seemed he wasn’t the only one, as the pup tried to make his move towards him, stumbling in the process. Jon laughed quietly and slowly reached his hand towards the pup.  

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV), A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen Characters: Daenerys Targaryen, Rhaegar Targaryen, Jon Snow, Ned Stark, Robb Stark, Arya Stark, Sansa Stark, Rickon Stark, Catelyn Tully Stark, Arthur Dayne, Oswell Whent, Lyanna Stark Additional Tags: I'll give you more character tags if I continue this, Canon Divergence - Robert's Rebellion, What Could Have Been, Rhaegar Lives, R plus L equals J, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

He found a reason to live before he could let death claim him. What he did not know was of the other reasons that could be found across the Narrow Sea.

Chapter 3

Dragons fly to Westeros, where the lions play their game and wolves plan their moves.

I hope you guys like this chapter, I loved writing it.