Chapter 343: Ambitions of War
"Roar..."
Syrax twisted its neck and roared again, poking its dragon head out to nuzzle against Rhaenyra curled up on the ground.
"Syrax, be careful of the baby in my belly," Rhaenyra warned gently, smiling as she wrapped her arms around the massive dragon's head and stroked it tenderly.
Syrax stepped back a little, its amber eyes filled with confusion, as if to ask, "Are you going to lay dragon eggs, too?"
Sensing its thoughts, Rhaenyra smiled and rested her forehead against Syrax's upper jaw. "It's a good fit for you," Rhaegar chuckled.
Among the current Targaryen and Velaryon families, Rhaenyra held the record for mastering dragon riding at the youngest age, surpassing even her Uncle Daemon.
"Syrax has been with me since I was a child. It's much more loyal than you," Rhaenyra teased, giving Rhaegar a playful look.
Rustling footsteps on gravel interrupted their moment. Grey Worm stopped outside the palace and said solemnly, "Prince, Lady Jeyne requests to see you."
Rhaegar's face stiffened. The timing was impeccable. After a moment's thought, he inquired, "Does Lady Jeyne have something important to say?"
"She insisted on seeing you," Grey Worm replied with a flourish.
Rhaegar's eyes narrowed slightly. He rubbed the nape of Rhaenyra's neck and whispered, "I'll go check it out and be right back."
Rhaenyra tilted her head, grabbed his face, and snickered, "The fox is cornered and planning to beg for mercy again."
Discovering her pregnancy had brought a new steadiness to her emotions.
Rhaegar gave her a light peck and said helplessly, "I'll just take a look. I won't linger if there's nothing important."
It's reasonable to meet her at this moment.
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes in mock disgust. "Fine, get lost. I'm going to the Godswood Forest for a break."
Ensuring the smooth delivery of the baby in her belly was her top priority now.
...
Rhaegar didn't have to go far; the meeting was set at a viewing pavilion in the gravel garden.
Jeyne stood at the edge of the gazebo, wearing a waisted honey-colored dress, her chestnut hair cascading down her back. She gazed quietly into the distance until Rhaegar arrived. Seeing him, she momentarily looked wistful before smiling and saying, "Rhaenyra is pregnant. Congratulations."
"Indeed, it's a happy event for everyone," Rhaegar replied calmly. He took her hand, guiding her to sit on a nearby chair. "You have something on your mind. Tell me about it."
The moment he saw Jeyne, Rhaegar understood the nature of this meeting. The relationship they'd shared had always been on borrowed time.
Jeyne smiled and bowed her head. "I mean my congratulations."
She had been hiding in the Vale for three years out of guilt for Rhaenyra, unsure if she had made the right choices.
Originally, she had hoped to use the turmoil of the Battle of the Stepstones to separate Rhaegar from Rhaenyra and capture both his body and his mind. She had succeeded in becoming a part of his life, but she hesitated when it came to driving a wedge between them.
"Jeyne, speak to me frankly. You are not a woman who is afraid to speak her mind," Rhaegar encouraged.
Jeyne was a woman of inner and outer beauty, her intellect and strength surpassing most men. The Vale flourished under her rule, showcasing her political acumen and the talents of House Arryn.
Jeyne's eyes grew misty as she looked at him. "Have you ever thought of having a child with me?" she whispered.
Realizing the potential bitterness in her tone, she quickly added, "Even if it's a bastard!"
"Of course!" Rhaegar nodded without hesitation. "But not a bastard. I've seen the fate of most bastards, and I would never want my child to be looked down upon."
Jeyne looked up in awe. "But you can only have one wife."
"No!" Rhaegar's eyes sparkled with resolve. "The Conqueror married both Visenya and Rhaenys, and no one dared object."
"You want to start a war?" Jeyne's face changed drastically, her keen political sense immediately alert.
Rhaegar gazed out at the garden beyond the pavilion and shook his head. "It's not that I want to start a war; the war will come on its own."
He wouldn't start a war just for the sake of love. The strength of the family was growing, and a dozen or so dragon riders felt oppressed and constricted.
There were few Targaryen heirs in Maegor I's time, and it wasn't because of the Battle Under the God's Eye.
If Rhaegar were in Daemon's or Aegon's position, he wouldn't be content to keep his dragons locked away and live a miserable life.
War is a place to vent anger and fulfill desires. Invade a piece of land, divide it, and spare a group of dragon riders who otherwise would only see the Iron Throne as their destiny.
Jeyne's eyes fluttered and she asked hesitantly, "Where is your sword pointing at?"
"Dorn!" Rhaegar replied bluntly.
Jeyne's concern was obvious. "Dorne is a desert. The people are unruly and not even the Conqueror have been able to subdue them."
"The Conqueror only had a few dragons, and how many lords were truly loyal to him?" Rhaegar countered, his tone pragmatic. "Balerion during Aegon's time was only about a hundred years old, not much bigger than the Cannibal. Meraxes and Vhagar were only in their sixties, comparable to Caraxes and the Red Queen now."
He continued, "Once the war starts, Sunfyre, Seasmoke, and Grey Ghost can all be deployed."
The current nobles of the Seven Kingdoms were far more supportive of Targaryen rule than during the Conqueror's era.
"Rhaegar, war is not a trivial matter. The king would never approve," Jeyne cautioned, her heart pounding.
"I know," Rhaegar's eyes were deep, a smile playing on his lips. "Someone will ask for it, and I'll just need to go along with it."
He wanted a war, and his uncle Daemon was even more eager for an invasion. The difference was that Rhaegar didn't want to venture across the Narrow Sea to invade lands like Ursus. The Kingdom of the Three Daughters was one of the nine free cities, and attacking it would essentially declare war on all the free cities.
Two hundred years had passed, but the fear of being enslaved by ancient Valyria had not faded. The war had gone well, rapidly capturing the Three Daughters and organizing a strategy. However, any misstep and the Martells of Dorne would intervene, possibly sending troops or a fleet to disrupt their plans.
Jeyne didn't fully grasp the situation, but she understood the implications. If the Dornish War broke out, the crown had a good chance of succeeding. Capturing Dorne would mean unifying the Seven Kingdoms completely, and Rhaegar's prestige would rival that of the Conqueror.
No one would dare oppose him marrying another wife, given his war achievements. But Rhaegar's thoughts were more strategic. He planned to make a deal with the Faith of the Seven, supporting its spread in Dorne in exchange for their approval of his second marriage.
If they refused, he might consider aligning with the Red Priests, introducing the faith of R'hllor to challenge the Faith of the Seven and diminish the divine right of kings.
After their conversation, Jeyne left in a hurry, excitement and hope written on her face as she digested the negotiation. Rhaegar had made her a promise, and she was eager to see it fulfilled.
As Rhaegar sat quietly watching the stream outside the pavilion, his former confidence was replaced by a calm, thoughtful demeanor. He reflected on their conversation, recognizing the subtle manipulation in his words.
His emotions aside, his primary focus was on Rhaenyra and his family. Jeyne was vital to her political support as Lady of the Vale. Her child would inherit the Vale, just as Aemond and Cassandra's child would inherit the Stormlands.
In his mind, he considered deeper strategies. If Aegon were his true brother, he would arrange a marriage between Aegon and Margaery to secure the loyalty of the Riverlands. With his brothers in power in separate realms and the Crownlands and Riverlands united, they could upend the status quo in Westeros.
After much thought, Rhaegar sighed, "It is also a skill for a woman to be able to give birth."
He despised Alicent's pettiness, but he had to acknowledge her fertility. A growing family needed such capable women.
...
Not far from the pavilion, in a tuft of grass clinging to the underside of the wigwam, two small heads huddled together - one with silver blonde curls, the other with long dark hair.
Helaena lay on the ground, her large, watery eyes fixed on the pavilion, slightly lost in thought. "The Conqueror and his sisters..."
Maris covered her mouth with both hands, her face pale with panic. "An invasion of Dorne!"
The two had flown back to Dreamfyre after Jeyne left the table. Maris had heard rumors of Lady Jeyne's affair with the Heir Prince and dragged Helaena along to see for herself. They had followed and hidden in a single shot, not expecting to overhear such violent information.
"Helaena, we should go," Maris urged, shoving her little sister in horror.
Helaena, dazed, replayed Rhaegar's conversation with Jeyne in her mind. Suddenly, the people in the pavilion seemed to sense that someone was eavesdropping and stared sharply in their direction.
Maris stifled a gasp, pulled Helaena with her, and tried to run, fearing they would be silenced. But a shadow loomed over them, and a voice said, "Eavesdropping is a bad habit."
Grey Worm's face was expressionless as he looked down at the two girls.
The scene shifted. The two girls now stood in the pavilion, heads down, not daring to look directly at Rhaegar.
Rhaegar's eyes were full of helplessness, momentarily speechless. Especially Helaena, who wore a confused expression as if she wasn't the one eavesdropping.
"Prince, we won't say anything," Maris promised, nudging Helaena and speaking with a trembling apology.
Rhaegar rubbed his brow and said, "It's not exactly a secret, but your behavior goes against the education and status you've received."
He pondered the situation. The desire for war was Daemon's, more eager than his own. There was no telling if Daemon would seek out their father for a big fight before the tournament was over. Rhaegar was grateful he didn't have the habit of talking to himself; what was in his heart remained hidden.
(Word count: 1,740)