Half a month later.
King's Landing, the old city gates.
Rhaegar stood at the gates and watched as a four-wheeled chariot rolled away, flanked by a group of well-equipped guards.
"Alas, there is no end to the chaos in the Riverlands. Mediation seems futile," Rhaegar sighed softly, then turned to leave.
Inside the carriage sat Lyonel Strong, Hand of the King. The ongoing feud between the Blackwood and Bracken Houses had only intensified, with several skirmishes involving armies of over a thousand men shattering the peace across half the Riverlands.
Lord Tully of Riverrun, unable to withstand the pressure, had once again requested royal intervention, leaving Viserys no choice but to send Lyonel.
...
Rhaegar strolled through the streets of King's Landing, heading towards the Dragonpit atop the Hill of Rhaenys. His route from the old city gates to the Riverlands led him through Silk Street, the busiest market in King's Landing, teeming with people.
As he walked through Silk Street, Rhaegar noticed a stark difference. The street, usually foul-smelling but relatively tidy, was now littered with filth.
The stench was overwhelming, especially in the sweltering July heat, with urine and feces baking in the sun. Rhaegar's sensitive senses could not bear the stench, causing him to quicken his pace.
Behind him, a Gold Cloak shouted, "Discharging filth in the streets is prohibited! Offenders will be heavily punished!"
The response was a cacophony of spitting and cursing from the disgruntled populace.
Rhaegar quickly deduced that Otto's policies were meeting fierce resistance.
"Wait a little longer," he muttered, swiftly leaving Silk Street.
...
At noon, under the scorching sun, Rhaegar descended the steps inside the Dragonpit. As he reached the bottom, he spotted Jeyne holding the young dragon, Stormcloud.
"Roar..." Stormcloud, still the size of a cat, perched on Jeyne's arm. His bright silver scales glistened as he peered out with his tiny head.
Jeyne smiled and tried to pet the baby dragon, but he playfully avoided her touch.
"Jeyne?" Rhaegar called, confused, his gaze shifting between her and the dragon.
Stormcloud was known for his bad temper and would not let anyone near him except Rhaegar. Even Rhaenyra couldn't get near him, and the dragonkeepers had to shackle one of his hind legs to keep him from flying around and wreaking havoc.
Jeyne turned at the sound of Rhaegar's voice and beamed, "Rhaegar, isn't he adorable?"
"Yes, it's amazing," Rhaegar said in amazement. "Stormcloud doesn't reject you."
Jeyne tilted her head thoughtfully, "He won't attack me, but he won't let me touch him either."
"Roar..." As soon as Stormcloud saw Rhaegar, he flapped his wings and staggered over to sit on Rhaegar's shoulder, nuzzling his cheek happily.
Rhaegar patted the young dragon's head and chuckled to Jeyne, "The little one is very fussy and a bit dangerous."
It was indeed rare for Jeyne, who wasn't a Targaryen, to be tolerated by Stormcloud. The Targaryens and the Arryns had intermarried for generations. Rhaegar's grandmother, Daella Targaryen, had married Lord Rodrik Arryn.
Their daughter, Aemma Arryn, married Viserys and gave birth to Rhaenyra and Rhaegar. Thus, Rhaegar and Jeyne were distant cousins, but her Targaryen blood was very diluted.
"Stormcloud is beautiful," Jeyne said, her eyes twinkling as she watched the dragon and Rhaegar. "I come to see him often."
Rhaegar avoided her gaze, feeling a shiver run down his spine.
"Prince, a message from the Stepstones!" Erryk called out, hurrying into the Dragonpit.
Rhaegar snapped to attention and met him halfway. "What's the situation?"
Erryk handed over an opened letter and said solemnly, "The Triarchy hired mercenaries and invaded Grey Gallows Island during the night."
The letter had passed through the hands of the Grand Maester and the King before reaching Rhaegar. He scanned it quickly.
The King's forces on the Stepstones Islands numbered over four thousand, primarily defending Bloodstone Island. Grey Gallows Island, lightly defended, had been recaptured by the Triarchy. Aegon and Laenor had attacked with their dragons, but the enemy hid in caves, refusing to engage.
Rhaegar slapped the letter against Erryk's chest. "I'll go to Bloodstone Island first and assess the situation."
Sensing his mood, Stormcloud panicked and leapt from his shoulder, flying away.
"Roar!" A deep, resonant roar echoed from the crypt as the Dragonpit gate opened.
Rhaegar stepped outside just as the Cannibal, his massive black dragon, emerged like a shadow. The dragon soared over Rhaegar's head before landing with a thud. Rhaegar swiftly climbed the dragon's ladder, mounted, and took off across Blackwater Bay.
...
Bloodstone Island
A dark shadow of a dragon flashed across the vast ocean and landed on the debris-strewn desert island.
"Cousin!" Laenor shouted, leading a crowd of commanders to meet Rhaegar as he dismounted from his dragon.
"Prince..." several others echoed, bowing slightly.
Rhaegar wasted no time. "Grey Gallows Island is lost. Have the Triarchy made any other moves?"
Laenor shook his head. "No, they remain hidden in the caves and refuse to come out."
"They're trying to use the crabfeeder's tactics," Rhaegar sneered, showing his disdain. It wasn't a clever strategy, but it had been surprisingly effective during the Island War. Although he didn't have a perfect solution, he needed to project confidence to maintain morale.
"Cousin, let's discuss this in the tent," Laenor suggested, leaning in to whisper, "Aegon's been in a foul mood lately, and House Manderly from White Harbor has sent someone to inquire."
"House Manderly?" Rhaegar frowned. Aegon was the least of his concerns—he'd always been lazy and was probably bored out of his mind, stuck on Bloodstone Island all day. The Manderlys, however, were crucial.
They controlled one of the five major ports in Westeros and were significant bannermen to the Starks in the North.
Early in the War for the Stepstones, Laenor had secured their support, bringing over a dozen ships and 1,400 soldiers. During the Battle of Bloodstone, the Manderly heir had conspired with Tyland and others, only to die amidst the chaos.
"We should go see them," Rhaegar said, sensing that the visitors likely brought bad news.
Inside the Tent
Upon entering the tent, Rhaegar immediately noticed three figures with distinctly different demeanors. Aegon, with an angry expression, sulked in the corner. An older, rotund man with needle-like white hair was speaking animatedly, his spittle flying. Opposite him sat Vaemond, his face dark and stiff.
The sound of Rhaegar's entrance drew their attention.
"Rhaegar..." Aegon's eyes lit up momentarily, but his joy quickly faded. He was determined to return to King's Landing and knew he had to reason with his elder brother today.
"Prince Rhaegar, you have finally arrived!"
The obese old man, Ser Wyston, glared at Rhaegar and approached menacingly.
"Ser Wyston, keep your distance!" Laenor stepped in front of him, placing a hand against his chest.
Rhaegar bypassed them, walked over to the conference table, and sat down. "Ser Wyston, what is your purpose here?" he asked, his voice calm but authoritative.
Laenor had briefed Rhaegar on the way. Wyston was the brother of the Lord of White Harbor and was here to seek justice for his deceased nephew.
"Prince, my nephew died for his kingdom. Where is the murderer who killed him?" Wyston's voice was loud and accusatory.
Rhaegar's face darkened. He slapped the table heavily. "Who sacrificed his life for the kingdom, and who is the murderer!" he bellowed.
Wyston, taken aback by Rhaegar's sudden outburst, softened his tone. "My nephew is dead..."
"I know your nephew is dead!" Rhaegar interrupted, his voice filled with fury. "He and his private army committed treason and died as they deserved."
Wyston stammered, "But he died on the battlefield..."
"Nonsense! If he hadn't died in battle, do you think I would have dismissed his charges so easily?" Rhaegar snapped. "Remember, his death was his own doing. There is no honor in it, and there is no murderer."
It was clear to Rhaegar that Wyston was here to cause trouble. The heir to White Harbor was dead, while the other conspirators, including Tyland, were alive. Wyston was here to challenge this imbalance.
Rhaegar called the guards at the entrance of the tent. "Drag Ser Wyston out and drive him to Bloodstone Island."
"Prince, I am here on behalf of House Manderly of White Harbor," Wyston protested, his face red with anger.
Rhaegar's voice was icy. "If your brother wishes to question me, let him come himself. The Targaryens will give him an explanation. Now, get out!"
The guards, members of the Second Sons, quickly acted. They restrained Wyston and carried him out of the tent as if he were livestock.
The storm passed as quickly as it had arisen. The commanders were left in stunned silence.
Rhaegar's sharp eyes scanned the room. "That was a minor interruption. Now, let's discuss the main issue."
"Yes, Prince..." The commanders, shaken from their stupor, hurriedly took their seats.
After months of war, Rhaegar had become increasingly decisive. As the heir and acting Commander of the Navy, he wielded considerable authority. Besides his father, Viserys, no one outranked him.
...
Nightfall
The negotiations concluded. The commanders agreed on a strategy of siege rather than direct assault. Patrol ships and dragons would encircle Grey Gallows Island, cutting off supplies.
The pirates, though well-provisioned, would eventually run out of fresh water. When that time came, they would be vulnerable to attack.
Rhaegar stepped out of the tent into the starry night.
"Rhaegar, I need to talk to you!" Aegon's voice called from behind.
(Word count: 1,578)