The Valyrian steel sword Lamentation. It had not been seen since the Dance of the Dragons after its last wielder was killed by the mob that later stormed the Dragonpit. It had been more than a century since then.
To think that it had been resting here all this time, just waiting to be recovered.
"Valyrian steel." Gerold recognized the special metal right away. The knight had held its kind before. His house, the Hightowers, possessed a Valyrian steel sword of their own, after all.
Barristan was astonished. "How?"
"The sword has been calling to you for some time now, my prince." It was Melisandre that was able to answer Barristan's question. "I am to assume that you had not felt its call."
What could Rhaegal say but the truth. "I didn't even know it was here."
He was taken aback by the sword and its beauty. It was the first time that he was seeing a Valyrian steel sword. His house's swords, Blackfyre and Dark Sister, were still missing. One was presumably somewhere in the far north while the other was to the east. Rhaegal harbored ambitions to reclaim both swords for the Targaryens once more, but that was an endeavor for another day.
He was not expecting to be greeted by a different Valyrian steel sword on this night. And it had been calling to him? How did Melisandre know that? Was the sword alive somehow?
Melisandre came to stand beside him. "I believe the sword is waiting for you to claim it, my prince."
While his head was filled with questions, Rhaegal still bent down to pick up the sword. It was like he was enchanted by it. What surprised him the most was how light it was. It still took both hands for him to grip it properly, but he did not struggle as he had with similar swords of its size in the past.
Rhaegal had only held a couple of swords before, not counting the blunted tourney swords that he used for practice. He always struggled with those, especially the bigger ones. Lamentation appeared to be longer than longswords, which made it a bastard sword. Records of the exact size of the sword always differed given how long ago it had vanished, but now he knew the truth for himself.
The blade itself was thick, thicker than Rhaegal would have anticipated. It had a distinctive rippled pattern with strange symbols etched all across it. The hilt bore the distinctive coloring of house Royce. Its scabbard was nowhere to be seen.
Before he could continue to admire the sword, the symbols on the blade began to light up. Rhaegal watched how they shone a bright reddish-gold light. They were so bright that even he had to look away for a second before the light started to die down, but not completely. There was still a faint glow coming from them.
It was mesmerizing.
"What is this?" the words left his mouth before he could think them.
"Runes." Melisandre's voice was right next to his ear as she bent down to inspect the glowing symbols beside him. "The language of the First Men, or so you call them. They are magical in nature, although most no longer know how to tap into them."
"House Royce's seat is Runestone, my prince," Gerold said, his voice filled with uneasiness. He was out of his element here with all this magic talk, but he was still willing to stand beside Rhaegal. "They claim First Men ancestry as one of the oldest houses in the Vale."
"I've seen similar symbols on that bronze plate armor of theirs," Barristan added. "They say that it's supposed to make the wearer immune to injury, but more than a few of them have died while wearing it. No one really takes those stories seriously."
Melisandre looked amused by Barristan's words. "Those runes are more than likely fake, Ser Barristan. A forgery of the real thing. That, or they have forgotten how to activate them."
"You mean those things are real?" Barristan couldn't believe it.
"You see the proof before you. The runes have been activated by Prince Rhaegal's own fire. They have laid dormant for far too long."
Rhaegal eyed the symbols. "So these are runes. What do they do? And why have they accepted my…fire? I don't know any magic from the First Men."
"Yes, but those of the past managed to combine their magic with that of the Valyrian's, when magic was stronger. Runes on a sword forged by the pyromancers of old. A most interesting combination. You can thank them for this, otherwise the runes might have gone out of control the moment you touched the sword."
Rhaegal raised an eyebrow at that last part. "You knew that, and you still let me grab it?"
"It was perfectly safe, I assure you," she said with a small smile. "Runic magic is very volatile unless you know what you're doing, but this sword was made for you, my prince. It is a combination of Valyrian pyromancy and runic magic, only suited to be wielded by those who carry a strong fire within. I can teach you right now if you would like."
"Show me." There was no need for hesitation here.
Still smiling, Melisandre stepped back and gestured for the two knights to do the same.
"So far all you have done is channel your fire out but never into something. This time you should coat the sword in your flames."
Coat the sword in his flames? That was an option?
'It's not as if there is a training manual in the library.' Everything he had learned from his flames was intuitive, shaped by his imagination. He mainly pictured his flames like that of a dragon's breath, but maybe it had been limiting him.
Rhaegal focused. It was the first time that he was going to be channeling his fire into something else without the purpose of destroying it.
It came to him easier than he would have thought, or maybe it was because of the Valyrian steel. Either way, the sword readily accepted his flames as they coated the blade. They clung to it with precision. It was almost like the flames had transformed into a tidal wave with how they rippled across the blade.
"Incredible, my prince." Melisandre looked pleased by the sight. "It's almost as if I were witnessing Lightbringer being reborn. Any other regular sword would not be able to accept your fire so readily."
The woman was perhaps enjoying this far too much, but then again so was Rhaegal.
"What else can these runes do?"
"I'm not too familiar with runic magic, but I suspect that they will increase the range and strength of your flames. You should be able to feel it deep within you."
For someone who wasn't "familiar" with the old magic, her suggestion was pretty specific.
Rhaegal followed her advice. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, so he just allowed the flames to flow freely from the sword. The runes began to glow more brightly again, which meant that something was working.
He was not expecting to see a fireball shoot out from the tip of the sword. It was fortunate that Rhaegal was pointing Lamentation forward, so the fireball flew toward the entrance of the Dragonpit, right for the sealed doors. The bronze doors were struck directly, and the force of the impact caused the entirety of the ruins to shake violently.
Both Barristan and Gerold stepped closer to Rhaegal, their eyes darting across the ruins for any signs of debris coming down on them. Some did, but nothing too close to them.
Their faces were pale, no doubt in disbelief at what they were witnessing. It was like something out of a story from the age of heroes. Such a blatant display of magic was once again surprising to the two knights.
Rhaegal shared a similar sentiment as he stared at the Valyrian steel sword with wonder. His flames felt more powerful just then, just as Melisandre had said. How curious.
"It appears that you have found yourself a powerful new weapon, my prince." Melisandre sauntered over to him, unafraid of the violent shaking around them. It only persisted for a couple of more seconds. "I believe that it will serve you nicely moving forward."
Rhaegal could see that.
Gerold had his doubts, however. "My prince, I do not presume to know how any of this is possible, but Lamentation has belonged to house Royce for hundreds of years. To take that sword for yourself now is…unwise. If they heard of it, then they would demand to see its return."
Unwise? Perhaps. It was theft, but Rhaegal found himself not caring for that sentiment. Maybe it was just the natural Valyrian inside of him. His ancestors had forged this blade, and it resonated with him.
It was a dangerous line of thinking, to want to take whatever he wanted for himself, but there it was. He would not make any excuses for himself. He was being selfish and prideful.
"As far as the world is concerned, Lamentation has vanished, never to return." Rhaegal ceased the flow of his flames into the sword and lowered it. He glanced at the Hightower knight. "It shall remain that way. I will have a new hilt and scabbard made, one that is more fitting for a blade of a Targaryen. Is that understood?"
Their silence wasn't asked. It was expected.
Gerold looked troubled for a moment but then bowed his head. "As you wish, my prince."
Barristan just nodded. He and the knight had a closer relationship, perhaps even a friendship, so he was more willing to go along with his desires. Gerold took his vows seriously, so his commitment to the crown would be enough to keep his silence.
"Most wise." Melisandre was of course pleased, but Rhaegal didn't take that into consideration when making his decision.
"I will still reclaim Blackfyre and Dark Sister one day," he vowed. "For now, Lamentation will suit me just fine. After a new hilt and scabbard have been made, I will present it before the court."
He could easily come up with some nonsense to explain the appearance of a new Valyrian steel sword in Westeros.
"I believe the blade will require a new name, my prince," Melisandre suggested. "For its new identity."
Now there was an idea.
Rhaegal shrugged. "I'll come up with something later, after it's refashioned. For now, I wish to return to the Red Keep. There's no telling who might come wandering in here after all that noise."
That earlier showing had drained him more than he had realized.
It was a decision that Gerold and Barristan could easily stand behind. They had seen too many wonders in one night. They didn't know if they could handle more.
"As you wish." Melisandre folded her arms and gestured toward one of the side entrances of the pit.
The group started to walk out, all of their minds filled with thoughts of everything that had happened tonight. It had been an unexpected adventure with an even more unexpected conclusion.
So consumed with their thoughts were they that none of them noticed the raven perched on top of the destroyed dome of the pit staring down at them.
None except for Melisandre.
---
Sleep came easy for Rhaegal that night. Despite not having found any dragon eggs, a Valyrian steel sword that had been modified by runic magic was a nice consolation prize.
Despite what he had said earlier, there was a tiny part of him that felt guilty about taking the ancestral sword for himself, but he quickly shoved those feelings aside. Better he use it to its full potential than let it waste with someone else.
Before returning to the Red Keep, Rhaegal had tasked Melisandre with keeping the sword and having it refitted by the time he returned. He wanted to make sure that it bore little resemblance to its current appearance so that none could recognize it.
What the Royces didn't know couldn't hurt them.
Rhaegal woke up feeling quite rested despite how late it had been by the time they had all gotten back to the castle. Or maybe he was just in too much of a good mood to feel tired. Despite the excitement from last night, Rhaegal hadn't forgotten.
Today was the day. The royal family was going to be heading out to the Stormlands. It was the first time in his life that Rhaegal would be visiting a place that wasn't King's Landing or Dragonstone.
Grinning, he sat up from his bed while stretching, fighting back a yawn. He was so engrossed with his thoughts about the upcoming trip that he didn't notice Melisandre sitting at the foot of the bed until a few seconds later.
When he did, Rhaegal blinked to make sure that he wasn't seeing things.
"Melisandre."
The red-haired woman smiled at him. She had her hands folded across her lap.
"Good morning, my prince. Did you rest well?"
Rhaegal deadpanned. "Why are you in here?"
How did she get in? There were guards stationed just outside the door.
"You shouldn't underestimate me too much, my prince. I may be a priestess of R'hllor, but I am also a shadowbinder. Sneaking past a couple of guards is nothing to me."
Rhaegal wasn't sure which one made her the more dangerous, being a red priestess or a shadowbinder. Not that he knew too much about either. Shadowbinders were common in Asshai, but not so much in Westeros.
"I trust my guards are still alive?"
"Of course."
Well, that was a relief.
"You still haven't answered my first question."
She tilted her head. "I do not imagine that you would have enjoyed waking up in bed next to me, so I had to settle for the next thing."
This woman. Was she trying to make fun of him?
When he didn't reply, she blew out a sigh in slight exasperation. "You joke with your brother all the time but not with me? I find that unfair."
"Get to the point already." Rhaegal felt like he was gonna get a headache at this point.
"Very well." Melisandre dropped her previous pretense and answered, "I have been curious about your mental state since I first arrived here. I could sense the presence of a foreign magic within these walls. While I cannot pinpoint its exact source, it has been trying to meddle with your mind for some time now."
What?
For the first time in his life, fear gripped Rhaegal's heart.
"Someone is targeting me!? Why didn't you say something earlier!?"
"It's not what you are thinking, my prince. They are not after your life. They would be using more direct methods if that were the case. No, they have been trying to invade your dreams, your subconscious. To what end, I do not know. I was hoping to catch them, but so far they have eluded my attempts."
A barrage of questions filled Rhaegal's mind as he got up from his bed.
"You say you don't know where they are? Could they be nearby? And what do you mean that you can sense their magic? You mentioned that last night, that you could feel Lamentation calling out to me. Is there a way for me to learn this power?"
Melisandre smiled softly. "A natural set of questions. For your first query, I cannot say. The magic is…ancient. They could be across the Narrow Sea, but I doubt it. It is unlike anything that I have encountered in Essos. I would have to keep looking into it, but so far they have done a good job in blocking me. As for your second question…unfortunately, I do not believe that you will ever be able to sense magic."
What?
"The reason for my presence here is because I wanted to see if I could invade your mind, my prince. It is not all too difficult for shadowbinders to be able to delve deep into the subconscious, especially to those that they have marked. Certain artifacts can aid with this, but I digress. Last night made me understand two things. Your mind has a natural resistance to any altering effects, almost like a mental block. I suspect that your inner spirit is so in-tune with the flames that nothing can penetrate it. However, that same resistance has made you blocked off from being able to sense the presence of magic around you. There is always a balance, a give and take."
Yeah, how annoying was that? What she was saying was that it was like a wall. He couldn't hear anything from the outside or the inside. It was almost as if he was blind or deaf.
'No, I should focus on the positive here.'
It was protecting him. He had never suspected that someone would be trying to alter his mind in some way, not this soon. Not when he hadn't done anything overt.
'I've been complacent.'
If not for Melisandre, how long would it have taken for him to realize that someone was already targeting him?
Still, for the time being, he was safe.
The tension began to leave Rhaegal as he relaxed.
"Thank you for telling me. I would have preferred to know of it sooner, but I do not blame you for your reasons."
"I appreciate your understanding."
"So is there anything that can be done to help you search for them faster?"
He wanted to know who was already coming after him, for his own peace of mind.
"There are ways." Her lips curled in amusement. "But are you prepared to accept the terms?"
Rhaegal gave her a wary look. "What terms?"
"To bind us to one another, in body and soul."
Those weren't light terms.
Rhaegal narrowed his eyes. "You presume much, Melisandre. Your help has been invaluable thus far, but don't overstep yourself."
Melisandre didn't look perturbed by his words. She was still amused.
"You do not trust me? I thought for sure my actions so far would have eased your mind."
"There is no honest soul in this city."
"Does that include your brother? Your mother?"
"Targaryens must stick with one another."
"Such a non-answer," she mused. "With your knowledge, then you must already know the bloody history of your family."
"There is no reason for me to follow the same path," he retorted.
"Perhaps." She let that matter drop. "I would still have you think on it, my prince. You can take this journey to consider it."
Rhaegal didn't answer her. Making such a pact…it was not a decision to make lightly. So far Melisandre appeared trustworthy, even leading him to a Valyrian steel sword among her other protections, but he had only known her for a few weeks.
The red priestess was already standing up from the bed when she spoke again. "I still think that you should take me with you. I do not enjoy being separated unless necessary."
A more practical topic of discussion. Rhaegal was glad for it.
"Not many lords would take your presence well. I'm not going to go out of my way to antagonize the realm for no reason. Not until I'm more established. Besides, I need you to look over Lamentation while I'm gone. Qyburn is returning to Dragonstone to carry out his duties, and Ser Barristan is traveling with us to Dorne. There is no one else I can trust with this."
"As long as I'm earning your trust." She bowed, but it was obvious that she was teasing him. "Do enjoy yourself, my prince."
Rhaegal waved her away. He half-expected to see her walk out the door. He didn't care how it would look to see her coming out of his room early in the morning, but the moment he glanced away and looked back she was already gone.
'T'ch, probably some weird shadowbinding magic.'
Damn mages from Asshai.
Sighing, Rhaegal called out to his guards to summon his servants. He had a trip to get ready for.
---
Rhaella was happy to see Joanna again. The two ladies embraced one another in a hug as they met outside the Red Keep. It was kind of ironic. Joanna's carriage had just arrived while Rhaella's was prepared to leave.
"Looks like I made it just in time," Joanna teased as they stepped back. "I would have felt awful if you left before we were able to see one another.
Rhaella smiled. "It's good to see you again, Joanna. Or should I say Lady of the Westerlands?"
Joanna chuckled. "Not until my good father still walks this earth, my queen."
"Oh, stop that. You don't need to be so formal when it's just the two of us."
"But it's not, is it?" Joanna glanced at all the servants around them. They were placing the last of Rhaella's possessions in the carriage.
"We're not at court right now."
"I'm only joking." Joanna's smile faded a little as she noticed Aerys sharing some final words with Tywin nearby. There had been some sort of incident at the Dragonpit last night, and Aerys wanted to know if his Hand had managed to learn any new information.
"Where are the princes?"
"My boys decided to take a carriage for themselves." Rhaella sighed dramatically while gesturing to a second carriage nearby. "They're but six and already they're moving away from me. It's quite lonely I must say."
"The king allowed it?"
"Aerys goes along with anything that Rhaegal asks of him," she replied with some genuine exasperation. "He spoils him too much."
"You know how proud the king is of his son," Joanna said with a shake of her head.
"I know."
Rhaella was aware of that fact every day. Rhaegal's mere presence had caused Aerys to become more accommodating in their marriage. It was disheartening that it took magic for their marriage to become more friendly, but Rhaella wasn't going to complain too much about it.
"So Dorne."
Joanna's voice broke Rhaella from her thoughts.
"Yes?"
Joanna's mouth thinned. "You probably don't need me to tell you this, but I'm sure you've already guessed why Loreza invited you."
Of course Rhaella knew. It was why she hadn't replied to Loreza's invitation. She didn't want to openly insult the Martells by rejecting a direct invitation, but she also didn't want to be put into a position where she had to consider a betrothal for her son. Of course, the decision was taken from her when Aerys suddenly decided to accept the invitation of his own volition.
Her brother wasn't dumb. Arrogant and gaudy, sure. But he must also be aware of the true purpose for Loreza's invitation.
He probably just didn't care. She wasn't sure which was worse: ignorance or indifference.
"Do you plan to accept any offers that Loreza presents you with?" Joanna questioned, her voice laced with curiosity.
"That is ultimately up to the king." Rhaella's answer was diplomatic. She didn't enjoy the games played in King's Landing, but she wasn't ignorant to them either. She knew why Joanna was asking this of her in the first place. She was fishing for information.
'No doubt for Tywin.'
Were the Lannisters hoping for a royal match as well? That would be difficult. Joanna didn't have any children.
'No, that won't stay that way forever.'
Thinking about all the opportunistic crows circling her family, Rhaella had to stop herself from sighing. It made her tired just thinking about it.
'If only you knew what my brother's intentions are.'
Thankfully, Aerys had kept his desires to wed Rhaegal to a hypothetical sister to himself for the time being. No doubt because there was no sister for Rhaegal at this present time.
"I suppose that is true." Joanna must have noticed the change in her mood because she didn't press the issue further. "Did you hear that Lord Tyrell has a new daughter? He named her after Mina. I'm sure she would have appreciated it."
Mina Tyrell. Another one of her ladies. She was cousin to Luthor Tyrell, the current Lord Paramount of the Reach. She had died in childbirth a few years ago after she married. Rhaella knew that Mina had been good friends with her cousin, but she did not expect the Lord of Highgarden to name his daughter after her.
How touching.
The two friends shared a few more pleasant exchanges, but there was a new wall between them. They were wives to two powerful men, and that entailed certain expectations. It added a new facet to their friendship that had not been there before.
Rhaella missed the days when she wasn't a queen, but such was her fate.
---
Rhaegal rested comfortably inside the carriage as the royal progression finally left the city through the Gate of the Gods. It connected to the Kingsroad which would take them directly to Storm's End. His father hadn't planned on any stops along the way, which was unfortunate. It would have been nice to visit Summerhall before reaching Storm's End, but it would have to wait.
Rhaegar and Monford rode in the carriage with him, the latter staring out the window with excitement. It was the first time that he would be visiting a new place that wasn't King's Landing or Driftmark too, so Rhaegal wasn't surprised to see the boy all excited.
They were seated opposite to Rhaegal. He was happy with the extra room on his side. It was nice.
"I'm surprised you left the red priestess behind, brother." Rhaegar broke the silence, staring at him.
Rhaegal crossed his arms. "Why? You know that most in Westeros follow the Faith. Those in Dorne probably wouldn't have minded, but the Stormlands are different."
It also just wouldn't look good in general. It just wasn't worth the hassle.
"You two are always together, so I thought you wouldn't want to be separated from her."
How cute. Was his brother under the impression that he and Melisandre had a relationship that went deeper than master and servant?
"She's useful," was his response.
Rhaegar went quiet for a few moments. The only sound was that of the horses from the outside as they trudged along the dirt road.
"I recently stumbled upon an interesting story, you know."
Rhaegal playfully scoffed. "With how many tomes you consume a day, I'm surprised that you're still finding new stories, brother."
Rhaegar looked miffed by his joke. "There are a lot of stories, brother. Not just from the age of heroes, but also from when the Andals first came to Westeros and everything in between."
This much was true. There were many fantastical stories out there, whispers of magic from the past and other just weird tales. Most maesters dismissed them as mere fantasies now, stories that might have some basis in history but have since then been distorted through oral tradition. It was hard to know the truth after so much time had passed.
Rhaegar loved those stories the most. Rhaegal didn't share that similar appreciation, but he wouldn't deny that they could be engrossing.
"What story did you find this time?" Rhaegal decided to throw his brother a bone by asking. If he was so excited by a story that he wanted to share it, then Rhaegal wouldn't deny him.
"It's a story about the Night's King from the North. The maesters say that it's only used to frighten children, but it's very interesting. Apparently he was a Lord Commander of the Night's Watch who fell in love with a woman who had skin so white that she appeared to be made of snow. Her eyes were blue like stars, totally different from anyone else. Some say that she was a witch who seduced the Night's King and made him commit horrible things in her name. Eventually the North rose up to put an end to him, but not before he displayed dark magical arts that forced those around him to serve his will. All because of the woman that he fell for."
At some point, Monford had started to listen to Rhaegar's story, hanging on to every word.
Rhaegal was more interested in something else.
"Brother, you know what 'seduce' means? I am proud of you."
Rhaegar ignored the joke. "I think it sounds quite familiar, don't you think?"
Oh?
Rhaegal almost snorted. "Are you trying to say that I'm the Night's King and that Melisandre is the witch? That she has seduced me and will make me do horrible things?"
Rhaegar's silence was his answer.
Whatever humor had been present in Rhaegal left him when he realized that his brother was being serious.
He couldn't have that, now could he?
"Brother, I promise you this. I will not go down a path that leads me to destruction. I want to build up King's Landing, the kingdom, our family. I want to build, not destroy."
Rhaegar and Rhaegal looked at one another, the brothers locking eyes. There was a long silence as the two stared at each other, leaving Monford to look between them with concern, unsure of what was happening right now. He just knew that he didn't like it.
Eventually Rhaegar nodded and broke the staredown to glance out the window.
"I pray that will be the case, brother."