XXXIX.

Don't move, I could cut you." Lya said softly, but with a certain scolding tone.

"You are putting my hair in my eyes." He replied tenderly, half complaining.

"If you were to wear it in a ponytail or braid like our son, right now I wouldn't have to be more aware of your hair in my right hand than of the blade in my left hand. Now, be still, I'm almost done. For the three hairs that you have almost a quarter of an hour shaving..." Lya sighed. "Shaving you to go to battle... Thank the gods I love you and adore your eccentricities, but

sometimes you surpass me, darling."

If it weren't for soap's rest he still had on the corner of his mouth, Rhaegar would have cracked a smile at his wife's words. However, he settled for resting his right hand on the left side from Lyanna's waist.

"Are you sure you should distract me right now?" was Lya's sultry response to Rhaegar's gesture, while with expertise few women could claim to have, she finished shaving Rhaegar's nut and neck with a couple of strokes of the razor-sharp barber's blade that Rhaegar's wife had on her left hand. "Ready. You look like twenty days of your name. Now, don your armor so we could go to break our fast and you can present your plan."

His right hand lost all contact with Lya's hip, when she retreated a couple of steps back and threw a damp cloth at his face to wipe the soap's rest.

Rubbing his face with the cloth, while with the right hand he placed a silver jug at his face level, Rhaegar absently affirmed to his wife, "Hmmm."

Watching his reflection, Rhaegar saw that Lyanna was right in her words.

'I look even younger than when I died on the Trident. And today, almost seventeen years after that damned ford, another ford, another river and another usurper awaits me. I hope it turns out better than last time.'

He let out a deep sigh as he rose from the uncomfortable chair where he had been sitting during Lya's shaving him. The sun had been on the eastern horizon for a while, and the activity in the camp was beginning to be shown clearly in the muffled noise that invaded the ear. If he looked towards his left, he could see Dale's shade through the opening in the pavilion.

'Surely Forel is in front of my mother's and Lord Gerion's pavilion.' Rhaegar mused inwardly, after which he let out another sigh and tossed the damp, soapy cloth onto the end table that was used for most of the activities he and Lya could do in the pavilion. 'Which are not so many with the pace of march that we have. Sure it seems that the people in the column wanted to leave the Velvet Hills behind and reach the Little Rhoyne as soon as possible.' he mused, a little tired from the strenuous pace of the march the column had acquired since it left behind the goat trails in the Andals Mountains.

"Are you okay? I understand that with the Blackfyre pretender, the secrecy with your mother and without knowing yet what happened with Nys and Aegon, you are distraught. But today you have to be at your best and with your head set on returning to us." Lyanna said emotionally as she put her right hand to her increasingly bulging belly. "You hear me? It doesn't matter if you end up using Vhagar and reducing that decrepit city to ashes. The only thing that matters is that you come back."

Staring at his wife, Rhaegar flashed a small, anguished smile in her direction. "Actually, I was thinking that this reminded me of the Trident. You know. A mythical river, a ford, an usurper ... It's not that everything else you propose has no merit and does not occupy a large part of my thoughts ...it's just ... that...What are we, Lya?" He asked her, as he put on his black laced cotton shirt that would go under his surcoat and armor.

"What do you mean with what are we? Today you woke up and wondered the why in life? Or is it something related to the secrets between Bran and you?" Lyanna replied as she finished tying the ties of her light blue linen tunic with silver thread on the sleeves and a wide open skirt of the same material and color.

"The second one, and some fear of failing again, it could be said. Have you ever thought that both, you and I, at some point were nothing more than boiled bones and now we look the same again, or even better than before we died?"

"What morbid thoughts you have before a battle ... But to clarify and see what we are ..." Lyanna took a couple of strides towards him, took his right hand and placed it on her belly. "Do you feel it? Whatever we are, we are capable of creating life and we're alive. And as sure as hells that our little she-dragon would surely want to go with her father to fight against the black dragon. So you have to win this for her."

"Do you insist that it will be a girl?" he asked amused. The previous thoughts about whether his new life would be a repetition of the previous one, disappeared when he felt life growing within Lya.

"Of course that I insist. I know she's going to be a girl with your hair and my eyes. You'll see. If we stuck together, nothing will happen to us Rhaegar." Lya replied with a big smile on her face, as she turned on her heel to take a couple of steps towards the chest where Rhaenys kept her things and which apparently also contained things from his wife.

He went to the left side of the black canvas pavilion where his red surcoat and his infamous black armor rested on the armor's shelf, listening in the background to the noises made by Lyanna, who seemed to be looking for something in Rhaenys' chest.

While he finished donning and securing the surcoat, he could hear Lyanna muttering for herself under her breath.

"Your daughter has enough moon tea to fill several ponds...Sometimes just looking at Aegon and Rhaenys after their nights of passion makes me blush ... Here's what I was looking for!" Rhaegar's wife concluded in an exclamation.

Turning around and looking in the direction where Lya was standing, he could see that his wife had practically emptied the chest. Books, jars, bottles, essences, ointments, a couple of combs, pins, belts, and pendants scattered on the table to Lyanna's left that served as a desk in the pavilion.

With her back to him, Rhaegar couldn't see exactly what Lyanna was holding between her two hands, but from the way she was holding it, he was sure it was something big and that was hide deep in the chest.

When his wife turned in his direction again, Rhaegar's jaw dropped and he was dumbfounded.

"What?...How? Its looks like..." was all that Rhaegar could came up to his surprise by what he was seeing.

"It looks just like the one I used in Harrenhal and yourself presented to your father. I painted it myself. I added a wreath of winter blue roses at the base of the weirwood. Made of oak wood with steel reinforcement on the edges, with forearm and wrist leather bridles for the grip. I thought I would be the one to use it for the first time, but considering that you refuse to use Vhagar from the beginning and that you have committed yourself to the plan that you have committed yourself, and since I can't be physically protecting you, at least I want you to have something of me defending you." Said Lya with a beaming smile.

The shield was almost bigger than Lya's chest in width, covering her upper half body entirely. A bloody laughing weirwood tree over black field. Lya's war sigil. The reason for his search of the mystery knight almost seven and ten years ago.

"Did you know that the rest of the westerosi noble ladies usually weave a handkerchief or a thread on cloth for the wrist of their loved ones, right?" He somewhat japed, still somewhat dumbfounded by the appearance of the sigil on Lya's shield, flattered that Lyanna entrusted her shield to him.

Lya faked a grimace of disgust, as she looked at him with a raised right eyebrow. "When you married me, you knew what there was, dear husband. Perhaps Your Excellency would have preferred a handkerchief? Or perhaps you were envious of my patched armor and was that what you wanted?" scowled Lya. But in an instant she dissolved into a fit of giggles. "Come Rhae, take it to see what you think about it."

Advancing towards his wife, when he was in front of her, he grasped the shield with some reverence, still surprised that he had not even found out that Lya commanded to do it.

"Lighter than I thought. Thank you, I can assure you that I will honor you this noon and return it to you, I hope intact. But how did you get me to not find out? It is obvious, that being where this was, Rhaenys knew about this ... "his wife interrupted him by standing on tiptoe and giving him a chaste kiss on the lips.

"We all knew it except you. Aegon was the one who suggested it to me to have it done, and Rhaenys offered to keep it in her chest along with Bloodraven's bow. In the chests that left with Varicho and Fugger goes all my clothes, jewelry and books. The important things I wanted them to go by land and guarded by the people I trust the most."

"You sure are a woman in millions. Where another would have though as important things those things going along with our first army, you value over that, a shield and a bow. Everyday you make me fall in love again with you with little things like this. I love you Lya." He said melodically and softly. Rhaegar took the bridles inside the shield with his left hand while with his right hand he brought Lyanna closer to him to kiss her "Go with Dale to break your fast while I don the rest of the armor."

"Don't you need any help?" Lya asked when the kiss was broke.

"No. I'll have Dale to fasten the armor bridles and belts later. For now I'm going to let it loose."

"If you see Ghost, tell him to be with you today. I'm sure that the fur ball will comply. I don't want him to be overcaring with me today and I'm sure he wants to rip some mercenaries' throats." said Lya waving to him while passing through the opening in the pavilion.

'More than mercenaries, bandits and outlaws who are being paid with the daughters and food from Ghoyan Drohe. The lowest scum.' Rhaegar internally corrected his wife.

Although he did not tell her directly, not wanting to offend her, Rhaegar wanted to spend a few moments of introspection in the solitude of the pavilion. Once he left it, his day would only end once the ruined city at the confluence of the Rhoyne had been taken and subjugated. 'And that's the least of it. The important thing is to intercept the Blackfyre. Although I don't know how in the seven hells I'm going to identify a shy maiden in particular. Bran could have been something more concrete and less cryptic.'

Unlike what he had been informed about the progress of the advance until he took command of the column almost a fortnight ago, the appearance of the column was not going to be a surprise to the inhabitants of the city they were now approaching. While he knew from Araldo, Forel, Lord Gerion, and Dale of the skirmishes against the populations from the Andal Mountains and the Velvet Hills, advance scouts had reported a city preparing to mount a firm defense at its gates and in the city.

'This perfectly demonstrates the reasons behind not going in search of my brother and sister when we were in The Lost Daughter, and of not saying anything to mother.' he thought.

As it began to be frequent, the actions of his son ended up giving the reason to this one. Both of them knew from before arriving in Braavos, that once they came to light, both their supporters, and especially those against them would begin to participate in the game they were proposing.

'Framing and referencing themselves, for or against us.'

By the time they started having supporters, they had also started having enemies. And the latter would not hesitate to create or spin any horror tale in reference to them. To this had to be added the rumors and the distortion of the real information. Hence it was not surprising that after four moons, Essos began to see opposition against them.

'Ultimately we are the last descendants of the closest thing to an empire that ruled all over Essos. It is normal that they are suspicious of us. And dragons, just as they are a symbol and source of power to us, for many are a threat.' Rhaegar somewhat mussed bitter.

All of this had led the decrepit city at the confluence of the Little Rhoyne and the Rhoyne to be preparing for the arrival of Rhaegar and his column.

Something that, together with the presence of the Blackfyre in the city, triggered Rhaegar's internal fears, as well as his doubts regarding his actions in the past and what the future would bring.

What was going to be a simple peaceful takeover of a ruined city under no aegis and the discreet search for a boy of Valyrian appearance or features, was going to turn into a battle.

Speed and surprise was the key to achieving the early stages of Aegon's plan. And the reasons for Rhaegar's son not saying anything about Rhaenys or his mother to Rhaegar himself. Just as they were now the reason the whole family except his mother knew and had kept quiet around Rhaegar's sister and brother fate. In order not to divert attention and efforts from the main goal.

Rhaegar's justification towards his mother around his sudden appearance with an extremely pregnant Lyanna in tow was based on the truth.

'A truth with many omissions that my mother fortunately bought. At least for the moment. I have no doubt that she suspects that the urgency of my arrival and Aegon's departure is not due to Varys Blackfyre's brother-in-law.'

Omitting the plans from Pentos' magister regarding Rhaegar's brother and sister, he argued that the urgency was due to prevent Varys from receive reliable information from this side of the Narrow Sea.

When his mother asked him why, if the Blackfyre is in Ghoyan Drohe, Aegon parted towards Pentos, instead of being the other way around, Lya helped him claiming that their son had trust in Rhaegar regarding the Blackfyre boy, while stating that Aegon had some other business to do in Pentos.

'Besides, I also didn't know how to explain that the Blackfyre boy thing is something that Bran had told me. And as with almost everything Brandon tells me, I better keep quiet about how I know what I know. Although I have barely told Lyanna about my conversations with our nephew, she understands what a greenseer is and has lost quite a bit of misgivings about magic. But mother ... Mother is another story.'

There was a second reason why neither Lyanna nor he told anyone about Daenerys or Viserys. Not

wanting to create expectations and illusions that later are broken.

'I don't know if I fear more the possible reunion between my mother and the children that she believes are almost certainly dead, or that Aegon cannot rescue them from the Dothraki and the Magister and have to explain to mother that they had been alive all this time, while my son and I have not done anything until the situation could get out of our control.'

Rhaegar was not afraid for his son, his half-brother, or his nephew. He had no doubt that before anything happened to them, Pentos would be a stone ruin consumed by black flames.

'My fear is that they are late or unable to separate my brother and sister from their captors who they believe are their benefactors. How stupid can Viserys be?' he thought anguished and somewhat angrily.

Regarding his daughter and niece, whom he loved practically as if she were another daughter of his, more than concern about their well-being while subjugating Norvos and taking Ny Sar as theirs, it was some misgivings about how the relationship between them could evolve when the two of them were alone for such long period.

Although no one seemed to notice, Rhaegar had seen how both Arya and Rhaenys were handsy with each other at times. The fact that Arya when she began to sleep with Aegon and Rhaenys, slept on Aegon and now she did it on her sister of another blood as Arya called Nys, was something that had not gone unnoticed by Rhaegar either. There was a sisterly bond and undoubted love relationship between them. But he was beginning to suspect it was a Valyrian-style sisterly love relationship. Not that he had a problem with that kind of love. But he knew that his daughter when she wanted something, she had to have it. And he knew that Arya was at a time in her life that she could be easily influenced. Deep down, what he wanted was for whatever happens between the two of them, that at least they wouldn't hurt each other between themselves, or ended dragging Aegon into a threesome way relationship.

'The latter could complicate things. Especially if, as we suspect, Visenya is roaming in this world. I don't think she's going to be amused by being replaced by Arya. Although who knows, she may be an old crone who is not interested in such things. She died at sixty-odd days of her name.'

With these thoughts and many more that he had to subdue daily in a corner of his mind to prevent being paralyzed, he had finished donning the different parts of his armor and was ready to leave the pavilion.

Glancing sideways at one of the books Lyanna had pulled out from the chest, he smugly observed that his daughter was reading one of Rhaegar's books, The Fires from The Freehold.

'Book that now I know probably came to me thanks to Rhaenys' threats to the Citadel more than three hundred years ago. As far as I know, the one from Dragonstone that I later kept in the Iron Bank, was the only one in Westeros.' he thought somewhat amused about the twists and turns that life took and how in the end, everything had a rational explanation and a process.

'Nothing is spontaneous or happens on a whim. My destiny has brought me here to face the last of the Blackfyre. It's time to screw fate and beat it once and for all. This will not be called ruby ford after today. It will be called Black Dragon's ford.'

With that thought at the front of his mind, while leaving the burdens from fate and his past as far behind him as he could, he stepped out into the light of that sunny day.

With the fast already broken and all those in command now gathered in the main pavilion of the camp, Rhaegar was going to explain his plan to take Ghoyan Drohe, at the same time that they tied a knot over the city that would prevent anyone from escaping their grasp.

Noises coming from outside, flooded the interior of the white canvas pavilion with a muffled murmur that invaded the air. Sounds that were the herald of the beginning of the frenzy in the camp that morning. The sound of steel being scraped by the grinding stones, the hammers striking the anvils when mending armors and swords, the shouted orders, the screeching of metal in those who, already wearing armor, were preparing in the areas agreed in advance the previous evening. It only remained for Rhaegar to present his plan for today, so that later it would descend through the hierarchy of the army.

Taking his position at the head of the long table supported on four trestles that served as a table for eating and for meetings, since the main pavilion was used for both functions. Rhaegar displayed the sketch of the area made by Lyanna thanks to the information of the advance scouts.

In this sketch he would draw the plan, that during the night before, once the camp was established and after a long talk with Lyanna whom now was seated over a goose pillow in a stool at his right side, Rhaegar decided that it was the best plan.

Many of the advanced scouts from whom the information came were not in the hierarchy from the Targaryen army, but were peddlers and merchants who volunteered to advance a couple of days from the column, to asses the forces gathered in the city.

'The absence of mounts continues to hinder our mobility, especially when it comes to reconnaissance.' he mused, knowing that for the moment, he had what he had.

"Lord Gerion, Lord Commander Araldo, how many infantry forces do we have available right now?" he asked both men, whom were the highest ranked military commanders behind him in the march column.

Standing on the the table's right side, Lord Gerion was to the right of Rhaegar's mother whom was the nearest to him and Lya and the table header. His mother standing and dressed as if she were to enter battle. Rhaegar's mother wore black leather riding breeches over a red hose, black riding

boots and a black sleeveless scales leather doublet with a silver chain crossing from right shoulder to left hip and the three headed dragon of their house in the clasp on her chest. Lord Gerion, as was customary for him lately, wore his golden chainmail, over which a crimson tabard rested. Leather breeches, high steel sabatons, crimson steel kneepads and greaves. Strapped in his back, Gerion's greatsword.

At Lord Gerion's right was Dale in his black surcoat, over which was a simple double-ringed heavy chain mail and steel breastplate and backplate covered under a black tabard with house Targaryen sigil woven on scarlet thread on the chest. Black leather trousers, black steel kneepad and the white cloak falling from Dale's back.

In the table's left side was Araldo with the steel polished armor common among those armed by house Forel, in the image and likeness of Aegon's armor, but in forged steel and without any jewelery or ostentation beyond the sigil. The Targaryen sigil etched in the steel from the breast plate, gleaming with the sun filtered through the fine white pavilion's canvas . In the left hip a fine castle forge blue steel longsword. At Araldo's left, Syrio Forel in his hard brown leather armor, the thin water dance sword in his right hip, a dirk in the left.

"Counting the auxiliaries and the new ones, about twelve hundred. Not counting auxiliaries and those recently enlisted, eight hundred enlisted, armed and trained since we departed from The Lost Daughter, my prince." Araldo answered in his usual surprisingly syrupy and soft tone.

"Half of the new ones already have enough training to at least do squire work, but if you really want to do this without the dragon, I tell you my prince, we should only use the ones we have enlisted as soldiers. These outlaws are bloodthirsty, and If we intend to capture someone, as is in the case at hand, we will have to go house to house looking for him." Lord Gerion replied to Araldo's assessment.

"My princess, how many archers and crossbowmen do we have among those eight hundred men?" he asked his wife.

Lyanna looked at the army ledger, pursed her mouth for a moment and responded in a cold and dry tone, the opposite of her playful ways that morning when they were both alone in their pavilion.

"One hundred and sixty. Forty crossbowmen, the rest archers. Of these about half, longbows."

After pushing back the hair that had fallen to his forehead with his left hand, Rhaegar, now resting his right hand on the table, spoke again.

"This is what we are going to do. We are going to divide the army into three." Rhaegar sentenced, as he began to draw in charcoal on Lyanna's sketch of the area.

"Auxiliaries, new recruits, twenty longbows, ten crossbowmen and thirty archers, along with two hundred infantrymen, will stay here in the camp under the command of the princess and the Queen Mother. You'll protect the camp, deploying your third of army at the east of the hill where we are, from the river to the dragon road, with the bows and crossbows on the crest of the hill. Ten horsemen of light cavalry and twenty horsemen of heavy cavalry will be stationed south of the hill, straddling the dragon road." he said with iron tones, but softly, looking towards Lya and towards his mother.

Rhaegar then he looked to the left side. "Forel, you take care of their safety today."

"Whatever my prince orders." answered the bald braavosi while making a little bow towards Rhaegar's direction.

"Lord Gerion, Lord Commander Araldo, you will be in command of the rest of the infantry. About three hundred men, if I'm not mistaken." He stopped at his explanation, looking at Lya for confirmation of his words.

"Two hundred and ninety, lord husband." his wife corrected Rhaegar. He nodded sideways, and followed his explanations.

"You will divide the men into two thirds of army; one of two hundred men under Lord Gerion's command and the other of ninety under Lord Commander Araldo. Along with this, ten crossbowmen, twenty longbows, twenty archers and ten auxiliaries will go with Lord Gerion's third of army."

Rhaegar paused, while coolly staring at his mother's lover. Relationship that Rhaegar still hadn't quite finished of processing right.

'Although I have known him all my life and I know that he is not the same as his brother, it is impossible for me not to feel disgust and some anger towards him. It's looking at him and seeing Tywin.' He thought inwardly, while keeping himself on check. 'Something which added to trying to keep Vhagar away from the camp makes me feel like I'm forcing myself to go against my own nature.'

"My lord of Lannister, your mission is to attack the city frontally from the south west, deploying south of the dragon road, with your bows in the rear. The auxiliaries will carry a battering ram, in case it is necessary. I trust you would be able of carrying out the mission, my lord. I am not looking so much for the taking of the city itself, but rather for you to push the swords for hire towards Araldo and towards the Rhoyne."

Despite trying not to do so, to his typical steel tones, now was added a layer of coldness that sometimes deprived Rhaegar of the melodiousness of his voice.

Lord Gerion nodded and turned to stare at the map, as if there was nowhere else to look. Rhaegar's mother cleared her throat, pointing out to him that he was still staring at Lord Gerion. Something Rhaegar knew could be uncomfortable, even if the coldness that was now in his gaze was not present.

'My son's gaze has taught me that my own gaze and gesture is sometimes intimidating. Nothing like seeing some of yourself from the outside to realize about some things.' Rhaegar mused quickly as he now focused on drawing what he just ordered on Lya's sketch.

"Araldo, you and the best ninety men we have will advance from the west in parallel to the approach march from Lord Gerion's third of army. Upon reaching arrow distance from the city, you will deploy north the dragon road towards the river. Taking advantage of the fact that the attention will be focused on Lord Gerion further south, you will infiltrate with ladders and ropes, you will take care of taking the bridge over the Little Rhoyne and you will prevent any escape to the north."

Rhaegar said now more warmly albeit with his steel laced tones, as he looked confidently towards the tanned Braavosi, possibly one of the best swords Rhaegar had ever seen. Man sparing in words, but surprisingly nice, world-savvy, and refined. Something that with his appearance full of scars and his intimidating size, one would never say before meeting him.

"It will be my pleasure, my prince. Perhaps I could get ten or fifteen men to cross the river, if your excellence will allow me an auxiliary I know and trust to come with us to install a rope in the river."

"You have my leave, Lord Commander. I trust in your judgment."

Rhaegar nodded, finished his drawings on the sketch and steeled his posture. With the left hand resting on the blue sapphire of his sword's pommel and the right hand resting on the table, he finished.

"Myself, in command from the forty remaining horsemen and Dale, with horses saddled with the barding and the rest of the archers and crossbowmen available, will leave immediately after the meeting is concluded. I will flank the city through the low hills to the south, until we reach the ford east of the city in the Rhoyne. There, we will close the knot. Once in position, three flaming arrows will be launched towards the city from our position. That is the signal for you to advance on the city. My lords, my princess, my queen mother, do you have any doubts?"

"[My prince, if you allow me?]" Asked his mother softly and sweetly hissing. Giving her a small smile of affection, Rhaegar nodded.

"[Why do you insist on not using your dragon? Wouldn't it be easier and less bloody? I'm sure that just seeing Vhagar before their gates would make possible defenders run away.]" Rhaegar's mother said in her hissed and exquisite high valyrian.

"[Because mother, I am almost convinced that it would be counterproductive. Seeing the dragon, those who defend the city would be sure of their defeat and I fear what scum like that can do without a way out. They are paying them with promises of daughters in exchange for defend the city. What do you think would happen if they saw the dragon? Also, remember that there is a special person in that city, whom we want to capture. Vhagar would be seen for miles. We give enough warning being a column of almost two thousand five hundred people. Trust me mother, everything will be fine.]"

Rhaegar managed to say the last with more conviction than he really felt, reassuring his mother, or so it seemed from her gesture less tense for a moment. His mother takes herself for answered, affirming with a small bow of the head.

"Dale, prepare the men and bring my horse. If that's all, you know what to do, you are dismissed."

The first to leave were Araldo, Dale and Forel, closely followed by his mother and Lyanna. The latter whom after standing up and before leaving Rhaegar's side gave him a look of affection and confidence. Subsequently she gave him a kiss on the cheek and whispered in his ear "I love you. You better come back whole, or you'll have to face my wrath. I'll be watching you from the hill and if I see Summer, I'll tell him to follow you and Ghost."

Rhaegar winked his left eye at Lya as she left, before looking down the the table where their son's wolf was finishing devouring the marrow of an ox bone. The crunching of bone and the tongue wiping the curled lips was the only sound the albino white wolf emitted. So absorbed was Rhaegar staring at his son's wolf, that he hardly noticed that Lord Gerion had not yet left the pavilion. He was gazing at Rhaegar questioningly.

Rhaegar raised his right eyebrow as he responded with an equally inquisitive look or more.

"Your excellence, I know that after the actions of my brother and with the relationship that I have with your mother, right now I do not enter through your eye, nor am I your favorite person in the world, I suppose. However, neither am I Tywin, nor am I your father, nor I'll pretend to be. You are a grown man. Old enough to have started a war for love that broke the Seven Kingdoms ..."

Rhaegar was about to cut him off, but something in the look Lord Gerion returned when he tried

speak, silenced him.

"Whatever you tell me about the causes that could be behind the scenes...You made your choice and paid for it. As such, you should know that we do not choose who we love, nor the family into which we are born. And you know that this tension between us cannot continue, nor is it ideal for your mother. That is why I solemnly promise you that if something happened to you, I would take care of your mother, your wife and your children, as if they were my own family. Even if this means going against my own family. I would prefer it would be you and your son who teach Tywin a lesson. I would pay all the gold from Casterly Rock to see my older brother's face when he sees your scroll. I want to be at the moment when he has to kneel before you. But I don't understand why you have placed yourself today in a place where you can repeat part of the past story. I trust you know what you are doing. This is not the Trident, nor do you have Robert in front of you. Avoid being dismounted and if you are, always look for a surface smooth as possible to support you. You have a long list of people who would go to the seven hells to scold you for dying again. Do not include me in that list and finish what is in front of us. If the Blackfyre boy presents himself as an impossible rival to subdue, kill him and finish the line for good this time. Do not have compassion, because the other surely will not have it."

Lord Gerion held out his hand, a gesture that Rhaegar reciprocated.

"I think it is the first time in twenty and three days of my name that you talk so much to me. And we have known each other since almost I was born. I appreciate your words, Lord Gerion. And I really appreciate everything you have done for my mother and for my daughter. Someday maybe I'll be able to prove or express better my gratitude, although now, it would be a lie."

He replied politely while shaking hands, trying not to be too cold and able to express his true gratitude to Lord Gerion for how he had cared for Rhaegar's mother and daughter.

"I understand the feeling, your excellence. You have me associated with my brother. But you are wrong in the first. At the time when everyone wanted to put a sword in your hand and you only longed to read, I told you about Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History by Barth and you told me that you had a copy of it in Dragonstone, but you did not have a dragon to verify the validity of what Barth claimed. It stuck with me, because I never expected such a valid answer from a child of six days of the name. Unlike the cunt of my older brother, I have always trusted you, and not because you could enter the family, but because you have the head to do what you propose. But let me give you one advice; you cannot lose yourself in your ideals and your thoughts. Not everyone thinks or would act the way you do or would. I'm not telling you to be a cold and insensitive person like my brother, or a madman like your father. I don't even tell you to be like your son, because that requires something that you don't have and will never have. Your mettle is another. That is why sometimes you have to awake the dragon in you and let it come out, without regretting what you do when you are what you should be. A dragon. Our silver dragon."

After that exchange, Lord Gerion clapped him on the right shoulder and dismissed himself. When Gerion was about to leave through the opening of the pavilion, Rhaegar told him with a certain warmth within the steel and melody of his tones;

"My lord, I wish you good fortune in the battle to come. We don't want to lose our Laughing Lion." Gerion turned to face him with a smile and approving nod. "Have the drum kids roll to ordinary. See you at the Rhoyne in a few hours."

After Lord Gerion left, Rhaegar was still somewhat dumbfounded by Lord Gerion's audacity in his words. However he understood that his mother's lover had something right with what he said. Today he could not be the last Dragon. Today he had to be the Silver Dragon from the Freehold of

Valyria and House Targaryen.

Looking down at Ghost who had contemplated the scene with his intelligent eyes, he told to the wolf;

"I know I am not Aegon, not even Lyanna. But I would be delighted if you would join me today. I want to have a part of my son with me."

Ghost cocked his big head to the left, and after an instant, he got up from his position to get back on all fours. Ghost approached him and Rhaegar held out his hand in the direction of the albino Direwolf.

As he stared into Ghost's eyes and Ghost did the same with Rhaegar, the beating of drums began to be heard in the background. Through the air, the intoned whistle and voice of a few soldiers carried a soldier song.

"Oh Field, field, wide field Heroes are riding by the field

Ah, they're heroes of The Black Army..."

Ghost closed the distance with him and began to lick Rhaegar's outstretched hand. "I think it's time, right?" He said to the wolf, after which he stroked Ghost between the ears and went to get his helmet and the shield that he was going to use today, arranged on a ledge of the pavilion. In the background he could still hear the melody sung by the soldiers, among the muffled noise from hundreds of rhythmic foot steps and the up tempo beat from the drumms.

"Girls are crying

It is sad for girls today

Darling has left for a long time Ah, darling has left to the Valyrian host Girls Look!

Look at our path it is a zephyr road ..."

His plan was very simple; the force that would take the city will make a frontal attack with the infantry along the dragon road, supported by most of the archers in what was really a feint. Meanwhile a flanking would take place through the southern hills of the city with two thirds from the available cavalry forces and a detachment of archers and crossbowmen. The forces of the flanking movement would be those that would be under Rhaegar's direct orders, while the main force would be under the command of Lord Gerion and Lord Commander Araldo.

The objective of the forces under Rhaegar's command was to reach the ford south east of Ghoyan Drohe, on the Rhoyne, closing the river traffic and denying a possible escape towards the east of the Blackfyre. Once his main objective was secured, the cavalry force would split in two. A group would go up the river on the west bank with twenty riders, while Rhaegar would go up the east bank with Dale and the remaining twenty horsemen. The Archers and Crossbowmen at both sides from the ford would cover the cavalry on both banks, keeping the river traffic closed.

As usual, plans hardly survive contact with reality. Taking with them about forty men on foot, the pace of advance have been reduced considerably, making the sun already at its zenith by the time the force under Rhaegar's command reached its position.

On top of that, the very hills that had allowed Rhaegar's detachment to pass unnoticed, reaching within arrow shot from the Rhoyne, made difficult to see if the rest of the army was deployed in the starting positions. So Rhaegar had had to send a horseman up the hill, doubling with an archer so that he could signal to them if all was ready to the west of the city.

'Considering that we have had to cover more distance than the infantry, I would not be surprised if they have been waiting for our signal to attack for a while.' Rhaegar reflected, trying to assess the situation.

The hills and vegetation of the area drowned out the sounds coming from the northwest, being only able to hear the echo from the roll of the drums.

Rhaegar's force was hidden in a copse at the foot of a hill and less than five hundred meters from the ford that was the main objective.

"My prince, the advanced scouts have returned. They report that poleboats are trying to get to the river. If we could set a couple of those poleboats on fire right at the ford, we would create an almost insurmountable barrier. We must attack now." Dale told him just coming back from doing a round among the men. "Furthermore, the lads are eager to enter battle at your command, your excellence."

Rhaegar glanced at his King's guard, trying to discern if what he was saying came from a youthful enthusiasm, for Dale was about three days of the name younger than him, or if he really was presenting a unique opportunity to shut down river traffic.

'If the rest of the army is in position, I would have no doubt. But without knowing if we are going to have all the swords for hire against us, it is difficult for me to decide.'

Rhaegar nodded towards Dale, letting him know that he had taken note of what he had said. Tightly grasping the reins of the black destrier that he had for horse, he spurred it towards the edge of the copse that camouflaged them.

Looking towards north he could see how poleboats were actually trying to drop rigging and sails to get to the river. Fewer than fifty men were waiting for them in a barricade hastily made in the trail towards the ford.

He looked around him and saw faces of expectation, a certain fear, but above all, gestures and looks of confidence. Looking around again for Ghost who had disappeared as they reached the copse, he sighed when he saw that there was no sign of the pristine wolf.

Turning around his horse, Rhaegar was now facing Araquo and his archers behind the horsemen line. In front of the archers, a line of tarred dry grassland had been laid out.

He looked again at the top of the hill, waiting for confirmation, or at least a sign, that the western flank was where it was supposed to be.

'Nothing. The decision rests all with me. The Blackfyre may be on one of those poleboats. If we don't cut the ford, he can slip through my fingers and then we'll have that remora over us.'

Rhaegar straightened and steeled himself as much as he could. He secured his boots in the stirrups and rose onto his horse. His armor felt extremely tight, coming to feel that at times it was difficult for him to breathe.

'Calm down. Everything is going to be fine. No one is waiting for me with a hammer claiming that I have raped his fiancée. I have to do it for Aegon, for Nys, for Lya, for Elaena or Aenar, for my mother, for my brothers and sister. I will not fail again!' he mused before took a huge breath.

"Araquo, lit the arrows and shoot three burning arrows heading north. After that, all archers make kindle of every ship on that river. Crossbowmen follow the cavalry as fast as you can." Rhaegar commanded exhortively.

Turning his horse to face the Rhoyne, Rhaegar looked from side to side, nodded, and in a powerful voice and steel tones, ordered.

"Riders! Spears!" he ordered as Araquo and his archers lit their arrows.

"Dale, you with me. Maloquo you are in command of the other half of the riders. Once we secured the ford, go up the western bank until you reach the bridge over the Little Rhoyne. I will do the same with the other half of the riders on the eastern bank." he said as the swish of arrows fired from the bows began to make itself felt, while shouts and screams could be heard from the barricade and the city.

Trotting his horse parallel to the line of riders, he secured the shield bridles on his left arm with his right hand, momentarily releasing the horse's reins. Once the shield was secured, he grasped the reins anew with the left and with his right drew his wonderful sword, pointing the blue steel blade towards the barricade and Ghoyan Drohe.

He moved his horse, now standing in front of the heavy cavalry line of forty-one horsemen and before lowering his helmet to launch himself into what was likely to be a bloody carnage, Rhaegar said loudly and with steel in his voice.

"You have sworn an oath! Is time to prove it and earn your coin!" Rhaegar took a deep breath, feeling like his heart was hammering in his chest. "Fair shall be the end! For Land and Glory! For House Targaryen!" he shouted at the top of his lungs as he spurred the mighty destrier beneath him.

Rhaegar couldn't look back, but the euphoric shouts and the thunderous clatter of horseshoes on the ground indicated that he was being followed. In less than a blink, his horse was at full gallop and out into the open space beyond the undergrowth of the copse. The faces of the men on the barricade were beginning to be discernible. He raised the right hand where he wielded the sword to close the visor of the helmet, pressed his legs against his mount and before he knew it, arrows were raining down around him.

In what seemed like instants, he reached the barricade and his horse trampled down one of the hired swords at the left side of the barricade, while with the sword he made a powerful upward swing to cut the poor wretch in the middle of his path. Without stopping so as not to lose momentum, Rhaegar continued to advance. Carving a bloody path in his trail, slashing right and left, blocking the ocasional blow with his shield. Out of the corner of his right eye, he could see a white cloak fluttering with the wind, showing that at least Dale was still with him.

Looking straight ahead, he could see that at the height of the ford, from which he would be separated by a hundred or seventy meters, several poleboats had turned into incandescent torches. Those who were not being prey to the flames, had been stranded on the banks to avoid colliding with the poleboats already on fire.

On the western bank, except for the barricade left behind, there seemed to be no more trace of opposition. Looking through the slit in his helmet to the northwest, he could see some burning buildings and dust raised by an advancing army. His army.

Letting out a sigh, trying to calm himself down a bit, and for the throbbing in his temples to stop, he wheeled his horse around to see what had been from the barricade. This was now caught in the flames and half a dozen of Rhaegar's horsemen, as well as all of the crossbowmen, were overpowering the two dozen hired swords that would still be alive. The archers, now a dozen paces ahead of the edge of the undergrowth from the copse, rained down their shower of flaming arrows on the poleboats on the Rhoyne.

Dale, still on his horse and to Rhaegar's right, was fighting fiercely against two outlaws on foot. Dale's horse had a pair of arrows stuck in the barding and appeared to be bleeding from the rear of the rump, yet it was still standing and holding Dale.

Searching through his narrow field of vision for a helm with a green plume, Rhaegar took a couple of minutes to locate Maloquo. During that time, he felt like an impact in the left shoulder, but when looking askance he did not see anyone.

'It must have been an arrow that scratched the armor.' Rhaegar dismissed the pain with a little hiss.

When he finally located who he was looking for, Rhaegar led his horse into a brisk trot near Maloquo's position. Screaming to try to force the sound of his voice above the general cacophony, he said;

"Maloquo, you and the horsemen who are on the barricade, together with the group that are here,

go up this bank until you join the forces of Lord Commander Araldo! The rest of you and the crossbowmen, with me!" his voice sounded metallic and distorted from his helmet.

Despite the distortion in Rhaegar's tones, his soldiers made affirmative gestures if they could, or directly went into Rhaegar's tow, when he returned to spur the magnificent mount that belonged to his son towards the ford.

When he finally reached the ford, he saw that Dale had made it there too and seemed to be waiting for Rhaegar to cross it.

Looking up at the ford, Rhaegar saw that four poleboats had been stranded in the ford, having been burned practically to the keel. Many others had been stranded on purpose on the banks and their occupants tried to flee towards north, where although they did not know it, three hundred men were waiting for them.

On the other side of the ford, a dozen horsemen in patched armor, spears, and shields, were preparing to meet them in a last resistance at the ford.

'Again the battle will be decided on a river's water.' he cursed internally.

He drove his spurs into the flanks of his great warhorse so that it would enter the water of the ford. So did one of the men on horseback on the other shore, clad in heavy breeches, padded doublet, and a dinted suit of old steel plate. Rhaegar went to the right to offer him the left flank, protected by his shield. The man on horseback was unwilling to make that concession to him. The man on horseback spun his steed quickly and collided in a tumult of black and gray steel, between green drops of water. The man Rhaegar was fighting attacked him with an ax.

Rhaegar had to turn in the saddle to take the ax to the shield. The force of the blow made him lower his arm and clench his teeth. His response was to swing the sword and unleash a side slash that struck the other knight below his raised arm. There was the screeching of the two steels. The combat had begun.

The man wielding an ax spurred his steed into a circular maneuver to try to plant himself on Rhaegar's unguarded flank, but his horse turned to meet him and lobbed the outlaws horse. Rhaegar's rival, who had risen in the stirrups to apply all his weight and strength to the weapon, showered him with harsh blows. Rhaegar moved his shield to block the blows one after another.

Half crouching behind the shield, he thrust into the arms, flanks, and legs of Rhaegar's rival, but the latter's armor, though increasingly jagged, pushed them away.

They turned and turned, with the water on their legs. The outlaw attacked. Rhaegar fought back, waiting to find a weak point as he assessed the general situation through the slit of his helmet.

Maloquo force seemed to advance smoothly up the west bank towards the bridge in the city, while Rhaegar and about ten horsemen found themselves fighting the opposing horsemen at the ford. Dale had been dismounted, but now was fighting with great ferocity against a poorly armed horsemen and Rhaegar had trust that in a short time the King's guard would have made it to the eastern bank of the Rhoyne.

In that moment Rhaegar disengaged from the other man, to take a little breath in the fight.

Assessing his rival better now that he had managed to take some distance, Rhaegar finally saw the gap through which to finish his enemy. A hole under his left arm had appeared. In the left side of the trunk there was a simple ring mail and cloth gambeson, but no plate. One of Rhaegar's thrusts

must have torn it apart.

Seizing the opportunity, Rhaegar spurred his horse toward the outlaw's left flank. This one predictably, raised his shield, but Rhaegar was feinting and ended up slashing at the man's right shoulder. The outlaw quickly tried to parry his sword with the ax, but in doing so, he lowered the shield. The side of the armor without plate was now fully exposed. Rhaegar then changed the direction of his lunge and thrust towards the gap under the left armpit.

The thrust struck the outlaw squarely, dismounting him instantly. Blood spurted from the cut Rhaegar had made.

Calling out the outlaw as drowned or dead man, Rhaegar spurred his horse to the eastern bank, where Dale, a pair of horsemen, and a few crossbowmen had gathered in front one of the stranded poleboats, among the ruins of what must once have been mighty buildings.

The poleboat had tattered sails and rigging, surely victims of flames, and had to be run aground on the east bank before it collided with the mass of keels that now formed a barrier in the ford of the Rhoyne. It was overturned on the starboard side, where a plank was being used by two men and a lad to descend from the poleboat.

Rhaegar caught up with his men, as a dozen more of his horsemen reached the eastern bank of the Rhoyne.

'Between crossbowmen and horsemen I have around twenty men. It gives me to make the final push towards north.' Rhaegar pondered as he dismounted from his horse and patted it between its eyes.

'For a warhorse, how calm it is. Others would bite. Yet it seems to recognize who my enemies are, if I judge its performance today.' He knowingly thought that his mount was largely responsible for his swift fight today. Without letting go of the black destrier's reins, he advanced to where Dale and his men were standing.

Opening the visor of his helmet after sheathed his sword, he addressed Dale. "Are you okay? What happened to your horse?" whereupon he clapped Ser Davos's son on the right shoulder.

"I'll have a couple of bruises and I'm going to walk funny for a couple of days, but I'm fine. It has happened to my horse that it has attracted almost all the arrows that have been launched against us. How are you, my prince? Your fame it does not do you justice. You are at the level of Ser Jaime or His Grace, if I may be daring, my prince." replied Dale at first nonchalantly and then reverently.

Davos' middle son had a gash above his left eye and the left half of his lower lip open. His once pristine white cloak was now covered in mud and blood, tattered in places. In Dale's shield there were no longer seven swords in a circle and the color of wood was more abundant than that of the white field.

Accustomed to this kind of compliment, although he had never liked being recognized as a great warrior, he forced a smile in Dale's direction.

"More than being your horse that attracted the arrows, I think it's your cloak." he japed and chuckled with Dale. "Do we have any spears with banners left? We need the infantry to identify us when we go to the north bridge." he said now to all those gathered around him, about thirty men, a fifteen still in their saddles.

"Here, my prince." One of the horsemen lifted his spear, the steel tip of it was bloody, dripping toward the wood where at half the height of the spear, a black banner with the scarlet rampant

three-headed dragon stood.

"Good man! Keep the spear up! I don't think we need to fight much more. Five minutes of rest and to regroup and we went up the eastern bank until we reach the stone bridge. Those who are wounded or do not have a saddle or crossbow, stay here guarding the ford." he sentenced, after which Rhaegar turned on his footsteps, the reins of the horse still in his steel-gloved left hand and in whose arm, half numb from the outlaw's ax blows, Lya's shield was still well secured.

Glancing at it, he noted that his wife would have to repaint it and that those who before were getting off the poleboat, now seemed fascinated by Rhaegar's shield and armor, with Dale whom was right in Rhaegar's tow and with the banner held aloft by one of his riders.

Dale seemed to notice, for he muttered under his breath; "What the fuck is wrong with those three? Have they never seen heavy cavalry in their lives?"

Without answering Dale, Rhaegar began to advance in the direction of two men and the lad.

As he got closer, he was able to better appreciate the three figures. A small man with Rhoynish features, still on the starboard deck of the poleboat. At the foot of the plank, the man and the lad.

Arriving within twenty paces of the poleboat, Rhaegar could perfectly appreciate the features of the two in the river bank.

A big man in heavy breeches and mail and boiled leather. Closed helm upon his head, mace in the right hand and a plain white shield on the left arm. At his side, a lad with blue hair and shorter than the big man, but his lanky build suggested that he had not yet come into his full growth. This beardless boy could have any maiden in the Seven Kingdoms, blue hair or no. Those eyes of his would melt them and convince he is whom he is not. Very particular set of eyes, that few families had in their blood.

In that moment, Rhaegar shot his eyes towards the bow of the poleboat, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. On the top of the hull in the bow, a name. 'Shy Maid.'

"Friends of Illyrio Mopatis, right?" Rhaegar said loudly and curtly. Dale two steps behind, tensed and drew his sword again.

As he expected, the answer was immediate and came from the lad; "Who are you?" said the lad with a trembling voice and with a certain anguish and rage "You wear an armor that belongs to a person for fifteen years dead and you carry sigils that are not yours. What is this farce?" the lad had the audacity to be demanding towards Rhaegar.

"Who am I?" He replied, after which he gave a humorless laugh. "I am a Dragon. The Silver Dragon. And you, son of Mopatis and Serra Blackfyre, you will shortly be a dead man. Brace yourself, Blackfyre!" he intoned menacingly and with promise of harm to the Blackfyre in his tone.

Rhaegar released the reins of his destrier and with his right he lowered the visor of his helmet, then unsheathed his sword, still coated with the blood of his enemies.

He began a race towards the Blackfyre, which had the grimace of being exposed to the Stranger himself.

However when he began swinging his sword in a downward arc from over his right shoulder and to the left, aimed at beheading the Blackfyre, a mace parried Rhaegar's sword. The big man had gotten in middle at the last moment, while the man with Rhoynish features had gotten lost inside

the deck of the poleboat.

"My prince!" yelled Dale who was running towards the position where Rhaegar was locked with the big man.

Taking a deep breath, trying to breathe in between pants, Rhaegar ordered his King's Guard;

"This is between the Blackfyre boy, his dog and me. You watch that the black dragon doesn't escape or try to intervene while I finish off his protector." Rhaegar sentenced coldly and dryly at the top of his lungs while panting. His voice distorted and metallic because of his helmet, seemed booming around the area.

Disengaging from the large man, Rhaegar took a couple of steps back, thinking he understood the Blackfyre muttering under his breath something like 'It can't be, my father died on the Trident.'

Ignoring the dumbfounded and somewhat terrified Blackfyre, Rhaegar focused on what seemed truly threatening. The man who was bigger than Lord Commander Araldo. Which is to say.

The man's greater size and strength could quickly overwhelm Rhaegar. But he could tire out the big man slashing, feinting and parrying.

And so Rhaegar did it. Back and forth across the soft bank of the river. Keeping Gerion Lannister's words in mind, Rhaegar at all times tried to avoid the boulders and pebbles of the river bank, trying to always be firmly planting his foot on the smoothest surface possible. The river rang to the sounds of their combat.

He had already landed more blows, though the bigger man hit harder. The blow with which the big man had managed to connect with Rhaegar's shield, totally numbed his arm.

After a while, the bigger man began to tire. His mace's swings came a little slower, a little lower.

Rhaegar also began to keep more distance from the big man, causing the water to already reach above his ankles. For during the course of the deadly duel, Rhaegar had ended up with his back turned to the Rhoyne, almost at the ford again. His foot movements were getting heavier and he was getting tired too. He felt the beating of his heart in his ears and surely had an arrow stuck in the back of his left shoulder, although fortunately it seemed not to have penetrated beyond the steel, causing him slight annoyance. Annoyance that added to the numbness of his left arm, caused him to begin to lower the shield more than necessary. Something that ended resulting in that every time Rhaegar slashed at the big man, he then had to give more space to dodge, instead of trying to parry the blow with the shield or the sword.

On top of that, he was feeling how was losing his grip on Vhagar. Whom would be surely flying towards him at full speed.

'Either I finish this soon, or Vhagar is going to finish it for me.' he thought between pants and breathing gulps of air.

He saw his moment when the big man lowered his shield under the waist. Rhaegar first slashed up and to the right of the big man, so the man would parry with the mace, lowering even more the shield in the man's left arm.

In the moment Rhaegar's sword made contact with the man's mace, he closed the gap between both and slammed a shoulder into the man's chest.

The big man fell with a crash to the ground, his helmet coming off. Under the helmet the features

of a brawny man with a shaggy beard and a shock of orange hair, roughly Rhaegar's age.

Using the rush of emotions as fuel, as fast as Rhaegar was capable of, lightning fast he slashed through the exposed neck of the downed enemy. The poor bastard began to drown in his own blood before he died.

Now it was the turn of the Blackfyre.

"Your guard dog is dead, Usurper" he spat with acidity and disgust. "Now it is your turn, son of a whore and a cheese monguer. If in the Seven Hells you meet your uncle Varys, send regards on behalf of Rhaegar Targaryen. If it weren't for him, surely our paths would never have crossed and today you would not have to die." Rhaegar sentenced coldly, as he lifted his helm visor with his right hand still gripping the hilt of his coated in blood sword.

He was barely able to feel his left arm, and it was impossible for him to lift the shield.

'I have to end this now.' Rhaegar thought as he realized that the sun was already farther west than he expected and he was exhausted. 'How many hours have we been fighting? It seemed like a blur to me.'

A deafening roar and screams of horror from the city announced to Rhaegar that his dragon was about to come.

Looking up from the body of the man who defended the Blackfyre, he now framed himself in the boy's direction. Possibly a year older than Aegon, there was a mixture of anger, helplessness, and disbelief in his expression at what was happening before him.

Wearily, Rhaegar began his advance toward the Blackfyre. Looking at him with coldness and contempt.

"What do you have to say in your defense, Blackfyre? Where is your attitude from before? Are you no longer making demands of me?" he spat.

"You ... You ... You killed Rolly!" the boy said as he unsheathed his long sword.

Rhaegar glanced down at the corpse of the presumed Rolly with contempt, to return his gaze to the Blackfyre.

"Are you sure you want to face me?" he warned the Blackfyre with menacing tone and gesture, now barely ten paces from him. "Yield and we'll judge you fairly. Fight and you'll die!"

The swishing from crossbows bolts at his back, distracted him for a moment, which the boy tried to take advantage of to attack him.

Rhaegar parried the lad's sword at the last moment, and intertwined his sword with that of the boy.

With an upwards thrust, Rhaegar disarmed the Blackfyre from his sword and with the forearm of his right arm struck him in the chest with all his weight supported in the blow. The Blackfyre boy, in tanned leather armor, gasped after the blow, taking a couple of steps back as he brought his hands to the site of Rhaegar's blow.

"My prince!"

When Rhaegar was about to give the death blow to the Blackfyre, Dale's alarmed voice made him turn around, but still there was nothing he could do.

A rider on a brown steed with three crossbow bolts on its rump was riding wildly in the direction of Rhaegar. Sword in the right hand of the rider, clean shaven with a lined, leathery face and blue hair, a a red wolf-skin cloak fluttering in the wind.

He knew in that moment that he was going to fail Lya again.

"I'm sorry Lya. I love you." Rhaegar whispered.

However, when he was about to close his eyes, resigned to his fate, a flash of white pounced on the horse's neck, knocking both the horse and the rider on whose left leg fell much of the horse's weight to the ground.

When Rhaegar took a better look at the scene, he saw that Ghost was the flash of white that had intercepted the horse, tearing much of its neck, causing Ghost's pristine fur to turn red.

Screams of pain came from the fallen rider and ghastly sounds came from the dying horse, which Ghost luckily finished off quickly.

Focusing his vision in front of him, not feeling much of the left side of his body and being totally exhausted, Rhaegar looked around for Dale. Finding him with his eyes about twenty paces to the right of him, contemplating the scene paralyzed like everyone else present, he said;

"Ser Dale Seaworth, arrest that man. He is an enemy of House Targaryen."

After which he turned again, to see that the Blackfyre, now seated in the ground, seemed about to burst into tears, staring blankly in the direction of the fallen rider.

Advancing slowly in the direction of the boy, as Vhagar's leathery wings began to thunderclap closer and closer, appearing in the sky less than two thousand meters from where he was in a northwesterly direction.

When he was less than two steps from the Blackfyre boy and with what little strength Rhaegar still had, he put the tip of the sword coated in blood at the boy's throat.

"I offered you the opportunity to yield. You chose to fight. Now die. In the name of Aegon Targaryen and Rhaenys Targaryen, King and Queen of the Andals, The Rhoynar and First Men, Lord and Lady of Valyria and Protectors of the Nine, I, Rhaegar Targaryen, Crown Prince and Lord of the Valyrian Freehold, condemn you to die for impersonating my son to get what is rightfully his. Any last words?"

Rhaegar intoned coldly and with steel laced on each of his tones, while with the tip of the sword resting under the Blackfyre's chin, he forced him to look into his eyes. When the boy finally looked up, it was the look of a person who did not know what was happening and in which his owner seemed to have lost everything he had in an instant, totally surrendered to his fate.

The boy seemed to want to say something, but no words came from his lips. Rhaegar nodded, took a couple of steps to the left side and back of the Blackfyre.

He raised his sword and when he was about to unload his blow,

"Rhaegar stop! He is my son and your nephew! Stop by all the Gods!" sounded the anguished cry of a woman that Rhaegar recognized in her tones, but that at that moment he was unable to place who belonged to.

A woman of about thirty-five days of her name was running frantically down the plank of the Shy

Maid. Tall, with light brown hair, which he could tell was dyed, body like an hourglass and 'Are those eyes violet?'

"Ash?" The inconceivable question came out almost in a whisper from Rhaegar. "But you are dead!" he exclaimed, unable to process what he had before his eyes.

Before he could realize it, 'Ashara Dayne?' was in front of him. Tears streaming down her cheeks, her eyes red and swollen.

"And you should be dead too and you almost killed my son!" Ashara exclaimed indignantly, after which she slapped him on Rhaegar's right cheek. "This one for Arthur!" Another slap, this time on the left cheek "This one for Elia and Rhaenys!" and another slap to Rhaegar's right cheek that numbed his face. "And this one for almost becoming a kinslayer and killing my son, your nephew!"

"THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? YOU PEOPLE ARE MAD!! YOU TALK ABOUT PEOPLE THAT HAVE BEEN DEAD FOR MORE THAN FIFTEEN YEARS AS IF YOU WERE THEM!! MY FATHER IS RHAEGAR TARGARYEN AND MY MOTHER ELIA MARTELL AND BOTH OF THEM ARE DEAD, NOT A LAD WITH RHAEGAR'S ARMOR AND MY SEPTA!!" exclaimed 'my nephew?' who seemed to have come out of the trance into which he had fallen.

Ashara winced at the words of her son and Rhaegar took a better look at the face of 'my nephew?' Elongated face, prominent cheekbones, violet eyes but finished in a gray-blue outer ring. 'The mix between the eyes of Arthur and Benjen Stark!'

"But it can't be, he's dead! The Mountain smashed his head against a wall. My brother-in-law Eddard saw him!!" Rhaegar tried to refute which seemed irrefutable the more he looked at the boy still sitting on the ground.

The clatter of horseshoes and the splashing of water made him look to his left, toward the ford. "Lyanna?!!" Ashara exclaimed from beside him. "MY QUEEN!?" was the last thing Ashara said before she passed out and he grabbed her before Ash fell to the ground, knocking the sword away from him in the process.

"Brandon?!" Lyanna exclaimed as she approached along Rhaegar's mother at a fast trot on their mares to the place where Rhaegar was with Ashara Dayne in his arms, her son and Rhaegar's nephew getting back on his feet, closely watched by Ghost and Ser Dale. 'After today, he deserves it. I'll knight him.'

"Can someone tell me what's going on and why supposedly dead people keep turning up? And could someone take care of Jon?" the alleged son of Ashara Dayne said in a tone that ranged from disbelief, anger and disappointment, pointing towards the fallen rider direction.

"What Jon?" Rhaegar asked softly.

"The one who has posed as my father for the past thirteen years. Jon Connington."