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// I'm going to have to take a small break. I've had a death in the close family, so I just need to take some time to process this and deal with it. I will be back and I'll do replies when I can, but please be patient with me. Sorry for this.
theboltonheir:
Domeric smiled fully by the warm welcome the Prince was giving him. In all the time its journey had taken, he still hadnât figured out what had he done to deserve such attention. Deep down, he cared not for the matter.Â
 âThank youâŚ.âthe young Lord dismounted. He was dressed with the colors of his House, as usual. The pink cloak with the rubies embroderied on,  almost looking like blood drops. Although the weather on the South was proving to be hotter than he was expecting. His leather and fur clothes would be more than useless at the Red Keep.
âWe brought oneâŚbut I barely rode itâŚ.âDomeric smirked.His father had insisted on it, yet Domeric used it for carrying his high harp and books. âI wouldnât let go  the chance of such a ride.Though my legs are a bit aching, Iâm afraid.â
Rhaegars excitement was obvious, the Prince was practically bouncing up and down on the spot. He had seen Domeric a few times at the tourney after their first meeting, and each time he found himself growing more and more fond of the young man. They had plenty in common, and that didn't tend to happen very often.
"You have to tell me which way you rode, if you saw anything of interest. Surely such a journey has some tales for you to share," Rhaegar says with a big smile, clapping him on the shoulder. He could never bring himself to travel in a wheelhouse, no matter how sore riding made him after a while, it was always worth it.
"You'll come join me for luncheon, yes? I thought we could wait until tomorrow to start sparring together, enough time for you to rest. You might have a chance of beating me then."
Familia // Starter
As often, he had not thought before speaking  his mind. That was always the way with himâŚhe said what he wanted, and did  not  have  the  slightest problem with that. Yes, in the past some  people had been offended by his behavior,but it was not a big deal to him⌠ not  even  when  speaking to the son of the King, and heir of Westeros.              âWell, I am happy my sister did not become a septa.â  No, Elia would never be a septa - she was a dornish woman,  and  that meant she was comfortable enough  with  her desires not to hide them⌠not with her  lawful husband, for sure. âAnd I wish you both to be happy.â He looked almost serious as he  said the words, wishing an happy marriage to him and to his precious sister. He shook his head, sighing slightly at his words.              âMost find us dornish exotic, north of the mountains⌠they look at us as if we were some kind of animal.â
The clash of cultures was certainly one of the reasons that Rhaegar and Elia would never be written in the history books as one of the worlds greatest loves. They were...more like friends really. He adored her, doted on her, spent time with her, but he didn't look at her like she was the only woman in the world. And she certainly didn't do the same with him.
But they made it work. At least, he thought they did. Enough that neither of them were miserable all of the time. Just perhaps...a little.
"I'm glad your here, Elia will be so happy to see you, I do hope you can stay a little while, and help keep her spirits up?"
Libertas // Rhaegar & Lyanna
Lyanna was silent for quite some time while she tended to her new mare, and she busied herself with brushing her mane and presenting the gentle creature with a beautiful, ripe apple as a praise. After enough stalling, she figured it would be best to get inside and rest after their long weeks of travel, and at least a t t e m p t to make this cage feel like home.Â
Once more, she returned to the d r a g o n âs side, and as they walked to the tower, the guards who were already posted outside opened the large stone doors, and with slight hesitation, the w o l f went inside. Surprisingly to her, the inside of the tower was rather cool compared to the warm desert air that surrounded them. The lighting within was rather dim, the only sources being small cutouts in the stone and small chandeliers with burning candles above them. I could make this my home, she thought to herself, though she didnât have a choice on the matter now.Â
As soon as she was inside, the guards had shut the door behind them, and they would stand guard day and night, never allowing Lyanna out to feel the grass beneath her paws unless the prince allowed it. She didnât yet realize just how t r a p p e d she was.Â
All that the young Stark was aware of, was this curious tower, and her feet led her up the spiral stairs that wrapped around it, and at the top, it led to only one door. ( She was only a young girl, and curiosity often got the best of her still. ) So, she pushed open the door, and a bedroom spread out before her. There were bouquets of her favorite flower upon the walls, and small petals scattered along the floors, There was a large bed that could possibly sleep five bodies, with a sheer canopy draped over the four posters, and nice plush chaise with a beautiful harp to the side. She was quite pleased, despite the situation.Â
     â âŚIâll do it. â She had finally said to the prince in response to what he       said so long ago as she turned around to face him once again where       she stood in the center of the room.
Thick in the air, were warning signs that he should pay attention to. The tower was supposed to be a safe haven, a place where he and Lyanna could be free from everyone. A place where they could hide, until tensions had simmered. Until the Starks accepted that Lyanna should be able to turn down Robert, and marry a person of her choosing. And for Rhaegar -- well...perhaps he might spend the rest of his days in the tower.
His children would surely be happier without him. Aegon could be King and fulfill his destiny. Elia wouldn't force him into an arranged marriage, the way they had.
Deep in the back of his mind, he knew it was a terrible plan. That he couldn't run away like this. His family were not better without them, they relied on him. He had to go back at some point.
But he could put off those thoughts. For now.
Her words make him visibly wince, tainting what he had hoped to be a joyous moment, her seeing the inside of the tower for the first time. He had sent a raven two nights prior, to make sure everything was perfect. Flowers, food, wine, and comfort that the Inn's they had slept in for the past few months didn't provide.
"You say as if I have asked you to go off and marry Robert after all," He says quietly, leaving the door open to let the breeze come through, not wanting the room to become too hot. "It was wrong of me to ask, I understand that. It was - ridiculous - of me to ask. I don't expect you to see reason in my bizarre dreams, the way I do."
my dear, you set yourself on fire so often, and yet never feel any warmer as a result of it.
unfinished poems iii // r.i.d (via inkskinned)
   â a reader lives a thousand lives before he dies.  the man who never    reads lives only one.â   it  is  not  something  he  made  up,    but    something  someone  had  told  him  once,   someone  else  who    understood  the  importance  of  books.   he  has  doesnât  quite    remember where he picked it up or who told it to him, but the quote    had always stuck. â that is to say, yes, i do. â
  The Prince cannot help the way his lips quirk up at the reply, full of   hope that he might actually be able to have a decent conversation   with someone. He had no desire for the drunken jests of men, and   even the politeness of a prince wore thin. "If that were true, I would   think that I would feel much more enriched and satisfied," Rhaegar   comments, looking around the room as he sips his wine. "The escape   of a book can only last so long."
Family || Starter
âTo be fair to you, the Dornish are an unusual people. I assure you that we feel just as awkward surrounded by Westerosi culture as you do mine.â While it was true that Oberyn did not actively try to come to Kingâs Landing (he loved his sister, but would much rather arrange for her to visit home than the other way around), he could not imagine that he would actually ever get used to Westerosâ capitol - the people were crude and foul-smelling, and there was a level of political tension that was present at Sandstone, yet not quite as suffocating. Dorne was all about liberty, clothes of silk and a manâs most basic pleasures celebrated rather than condemned. By his sentiment, The Prince had not intended âunusualâ to carry a negative connotation, but a unique one. One that recieved far more criticism than it deserved.
But oh, how easy it was to hate something just because it was different.
The friendly tap upon Oberynâs arm was met with a smile. Rhaegar was his brother by marriage now, as odd as it felt. There was certainly nothing Dornish about him, hair and skin akin to moonlight with a demeanor that, while not unfriendly or cruel, was structured by an entirely different enviornment that the one Oberyn knew, of sand and glimmering jewels and venom. Although there were similarities between the two as well, and the viper did not doubt that his scaled brethern could breath a fire just as torturous as any poison could be.
âI hope fatherhood has been treating you just as well. I fear for you if she carries the spark that Elia had as a girl.â A joke, one that was made with an all-knowing smile. As gentle as the songs noted, Elia had been all that one could wish for in a Princess- kind and considerate and well aware of her manners around others, high and low born alike. But to assume her weak was a fatal flaw. Elia had been just as capable of mischief as he had been as a boy, and it was often their combined efforts that made the Martell siblings a feared force in the Water Gardens.
Rhaegar enjoyed Dorne, he expected if he had to spend time there, he would find happiness. He had entertained the idea of it. Instead of splitting his time between Dragonstone and Kings Landing, living in Dorne, with his wife, with his children. The lands of the Dornish bred freedom, something which Rhaegar craved so much, yet always seemed to be just out of his grasp. He could be happy in a place like Dorne. Spending his days watching his children play with their cousins, his wife, in her homeland.
But it was not meant to be. He was to be King one day. He belonged in Kings Landing.
Rhaegar was sure, if he weren't so beautiful, he would be considered extremely strange. He had moodswings, fits of melancholy, as if The Doom had settled in his own mind. He liked to lock himself away with books, spend nights alone in the ruined Summerhall, play songs so sad that a whole court would cry. Of course he found joy in more 'princely' activities; he enjoyed sparring with members of the Kingsguard, and he liked Tourneys. But he liked books and solitude more. He wondered if life was easy for Oberyn. He was handsome, talented, well liked, charismatic and easy-going. In a way, he envied him.
"I do believe I'd like to hear more stories about Elia as a child, she has told me far too little," He says with a smile. He feels like her youth is a well kept secret between her and Oberyn. She didn't talk about it much, and part of him wondered if she wanted to keep him separate from that part of her life. He could hardly blame her.
"Aegon cries non stop. Can you not soothe him? Rhaenys certainly never wept so much."
âAnd I fed him two hours ago⌠Iâm going to try,â she said as she picked up the little one from the cradle and nestled him against her, rocking him. âSometimes it calms him if I take walks.â
She was a bit tired for it, but it would go, she supposed.
âI did it before,â she sighed as she kept rocking the little one, whispering sweet words to him. It was hard not to roll her eyes at Rhaegarâs grumpiness, but she kept calm for their sakes. Wouldnât help anyone to fight now. âI might as well just pace around.â
She walked away slowly, going to the window.Â
Rhaegar lets out an annoyed little grunt, dropping down onto the fine linens, wriggling his naked back against the sheets. His eyes stung with tiredness, and Aegons cries were making his ears ring. He supposed he didn't have the instinct the way Elia did. He certainly didn't have the patience.
"You look lovely in the moonlight," Rhaegar murmurs, hoping to diffuse any brewing tension with an honest earned compliment.
Send "Are you in love with _____" for my muses reaction
"Aegon cries non stop. Can you not soothe him? Rhaenys certainly never wept so much."
âAnd I fed him two hours ago⌠Iâm going to try,â she said as she picked up the little one from the cradle and nestled him against her, rocking him. âSometimes it calms him if I take walks.â
She was a bit tired for it, but it would go, she supposed.
"The whole of Dragonstone is likely awake by now," He grumbles, sitting up in their bed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. Lack of sleep made him as irritable as nightmares did.
"It's too late for you to go wandering. You'll catch a chill, and wake up whoevers managed to sleep through his wailing so far."
//
god im getting such anxiety about my rhaegar portrayal...
Nymeria waits for the Prince to sit first, and soon after she follows suit. The decorative chains that made her top, if one could truly call it that, glittered in the Dornish sun as it shifted dangerously yet still somehow kept her covered. Another laugh leaves the Sand Snake, as servants come to present them with a platter of fruits, and chilled wine. Nymeria selects a plump grape, and with a shrug she smirks.
âThat is because she doesnât.â She replies taking a bite out of the grape. âShe thinks youâre too pretty, and soft.â Nymeria adds before the other half of the grape disappears behind full lips. âI wouldnât take it to heart though. Obaraâs mother was an Oldtown whore, and she raised her absent of soft, pretty things.â She casts a sidelong glance at him. âMy mother is a noblewoman from Old Volantis, Iâm sure you can see the stark differences between Obara and I.âÂ
Anyone with eyes could see the differences. Obara was loud, brash, and obvious in her angry nature. Nymeria was refined, sharp yet delicate, smooth and serene in appearance. She could hide her danger well behind a smile, and fluttering lashes. She was born of Valryian blood, perhaps not pure but significant enough to demand a certain upbringing. âI like you though, wellâŚas well as I like anyone who I donât know all that well.â
It's much cooler in the seated area, the shade protecting his light skin from burning in the strong sunlight. He loved the feeling of it on his skin, and he certainly didn't burn as much as most did. He supposed that was because he was a Targaryen. But he didn't think it meant he could swallow wildfire, or walk into a blaze like others had thought might happen. He tried hard not to be a fool when it came to things like that.
"It's hardly my fault that I am...pretty, as you put it," e says with a smile, pouring himself a cup of the iced wine, and taking a refreshing sip. It was heavily spiced, as Dornish wine tended to be, but the coolness was appreciated. He supposed, if he were asked to choose, he would certainly say he preferred Nymeria over her sisters. She seemed the least likely to try and kill him, though, he certainly didn't think that meant she wouldn't at all.
"Do you see much of your Mother? I imagine it must be difficult, for a Mother and daughter to be so far apart," He comments, giving her a look that could almost pass for sympathy. Bastards of course were treated very differently here, and her Father's talent for siring children all over the known world was something that Rhaegar certainly didn't know how to react to.
Perculsa // Starter
Cersei snorts with laughter the way she only can around Rhaegar or Jaime â the only people who would not think it unladylike. âYou know, I do not hear  that often.â One corner of her mouth  stays quirked  upward  in a smirk as she speaks.  âYou and my brother are the only ones  who see it that way,  I fear. A strong heart, yes; perhaps a  spirit- ed one; but rarely a good one.â
And  she  does  not mind. She  would  rather  be known  as  strong  or spirited. After all, she  is  a lioness. The queen of the jungle is not known for her gentle nature and kind soul.
âGood,â  she  says, mischievous tone  fading  at last,  twisting a lock of his hair around one finger then letting it fall. âI could not imagine a life with- out you in it. Besides my family, you are the only person I truly care for.â
Rhaegar finds her snorting laugh, like everything about her, utterly wonderful, It's enough to drag a smile on his face, one thats genuine, not there out of politeness. "Thats because people only see you with your claws out. You rarely let anyone who is not me or Jaime, see the real you. The kind woman. The good woman. The woman who I adore."
He understood the need to be seen as strong, though obviously not enough. He was a man, a prince, and things came easily to him. She faced different challenges that he would never be able to truly comprehend, even if he wanted to.
"Does it give you comfort to know that you will always be the first woman who made my heart quicken the way it does now? You may find a husband you love, and I may learn to love my wife. But this time between us will never be erased. My feelings, will have always been here."
The Hidden Prince || Starter
He watched the Dragonprince retch into the pot. Rhaegar now looked like a beggar, not the prince that once was the envy and love of Westeros. In his mind, he thought to feel disgust, revulsion at what the man he once respected had now become, but there was none. There was nothing save for anger and grief. It was a heavy feeling, it throttled and choked, and as he watched the man in front of him tremble as he coughed the last bit of bile in his stomach, he knew that Rhaegar felt the same.
He listened as the man spoke, and only replied after a moment passed between them in silence.
â Monster or not, my sister loved you, and from what i could tell, you made her happy, and that is enough to stay me from killing you,â He looked at his hands, realising how dry the skin on his palms had become, â I do not give weight to rumour and gossip, and i would like to believe that you did not betray my sister for anotherâŚâ He turned to the Dragonprince.
â But the fact is that you had disappeared with Lyanna Stark. Pray tell, so the account is clear, what was she to you, if not a mistress that kept you from Elia when she needed you the most?â
He wanted to hiss and allow his anger to show then, when Rhaegar refused to seek justice for Elia, but Doran only turned his head to look out the window, sighing. Patience, he reminded himself when he wanted to yell and snap.Â
â No⌠Nothing will bring them back,â He whispered.
Rhaegar was most certainly not  well. He had taken a warhammer to the chest, he had narrowly avoided a pyre, and had ridden to Dorne until his fever had made him fall from his horse, into the sands. He had spent far too long narrowly avoiding death, and it had taken it's toll on him, physically, and mentally. He felt like he might never recover, though, that was partly because he didn't want to. He wanted to be with Elia, with his children again. Fighting and getting his strength to return, simply seemed pointless.
Monster or not. So Doran, the only man seemingly on his side, believed everything they said about him.
"Elia was my best friend, she was the closest person I had, and I hurt her. I know I did," He says quietly, not meeting Dorans gaze. After everything, how could he? "Perhaps if I forced myself to love her as a wife, instead of a best friend, this would have never have happened. But neither of us would have been happy with that. I never abandoned her...not as much as people say. I wrote to her every day. She was angry, but she still wrote back, still spoke of loving me the way I loved her."
"Lyanna was nothing but childish rebellion, brought on by the birth of Aegon. He was to be King, and he...the signs showed he was the Prince that was promised, the prince I thought I was. All that pressure was suddenly gone, and there was Lyanna, full of spirit, yet caged. we both craved freedom that we could not have. So I ran away from responsibility, and I asked her to come with me. I had not...I could not possibly conceive that this would happen."
Too much talking is followed by loud coughing, Rhaegar having to wrap one arm around his chest, trying to prevent the pain from spreading across his body too much. Of course, he fails.
"Why fight? Why stain the sands with any more blood? Elia would knock our skulls together if she were here, listening to us talk of continuing the war."
The Lions Den // Starter
   Tears welled up in the Lionessâ emerald eyes. Tears of anger, she was angry at her husband for even thinking about this. Angry that he would take Joffreyâs birthright away, even though it was not really his birthright. Angry that none of her children would become King or Queen if she would let him go through with this. Angry at herself, for having to have known this would happen and not taking precautions.
   âWell, then what do you propose?â She asked, her voice softer than she had wished it to be. She had wanted to sound strong, as angry as she felt, but the sadness within her had taken hold of her voice. âThere are no heirs to the Throne. What will happen when you die? The Kingdoms will not continue without a King and you know it.â
   She did not want to sound so nasty, but it was her son that they were talking about and she would protect him with her life. âSay you can convince him to become a Knight, say you can convince Tommen as well - even though they both believe they have a chance to sit the Iron Throne - what will you do next? Put your brother on it?â She huffed. âHe is no King.â
Her tears hurt, making Cersei cry is the last thing he wanted to do. He can understand her sorrow, her anger. This is not an easy decision for him. Joffrey, Myrcella, Tommen, they had all been raised as his own children, he had loved them like a Father. But it wasn't as if the Kingdoms were free from whispers. Of course none of the children had any Targaryen features, and it was talked about often.
Rhaegar could so easily suggest that she could give him an heir. If they made love frequently, she would fall pregnant. But more often than not, he enjoyed her company non-sexually, they spent time lying next to each other, talking through the nights. She had Jaime to fulfil her desires, and he had never stopped it. They only made love when they both wanted it. Forcing that connection wouldn't make him happy.
Rhaegar moves to lie down, resting his head upon the pillow, tilted slightly so he could look upon her. "I believe you should tell the children who their real Father is, when you think they are ready. They are my children, and I could not have them hate me for this. Tommen could abdicate for plenty of reasons. He could find his passion in knighthood, in knowledge, or he could marry and choose not to be King."
He pauses after her comment, gaze dropping. "Viserys would be a good King. He has been trained for it since birth, and Joffrey has never taken a real interest in it. Please my love. I want us to solve this."
At Rhaegarâs words, Viserys let out a hearty laugh. He found so much about what his older brother said to be funny. He didnât quite know where to begin.
âSheâs a woman! No, a princess. He entire purpose in life is to be just what you claim she isnât - a thing with which to barter. Whether it be for alliances or resources or good will ⌠Itâs her lot by birth. And she should be a good sister and happy to fulfill it.â
But then came the question of the Dothraki. Yes, he remembered Rhaegar telling him of them long ago, but the picture Illyrio had painted of the horselords was much more recent - and vivid. He snorted before continuing.
âThe Dothraki are savages. Incredible warriors, but uncivilized and dull. Iâm their superior. Iâll make them honor our deal. And Iâll make them honor me.âÂ
Rhaegar recalls hearing something similar coming from Aerys' lips. Talking how Rhaella only existed to be his wife, and to do as he wanted. He had hated his Mother being spoken of like that, and he felt the same about his sister being treated like that.
"A Targaryen is not a tool for which to barter. Our blood is the strongest in the seven Kingdoms, in the known world. We are conquerors, rulers, dragon rides. The men and the women. Targaryen's are fire and blood, and we do not marry warlords."
He bore no ill to the Dothraki. Their culture fascinated him. But they were definitely very different people, from very different worlds. If Viserys was seeking a powerful alliance, this certainly wasn't it.
"How will you make them honour you, dear Brother? Perhaps you will attack them with your current army? Beat them into submission with your own sword? Spill their blood onto the sands until they bow? Viserys, you cannot lead like this. Listen to me dear brother. I do not want to bury you."
