Chapter Text
“Find him! That fake knight! No, the assassin! He was laughing at me. I know it!”
Rhaegar wondered what else his father knew. Did he know the mockery of House Targaryen that he was making in front of the entire realm? Did he know how much he was scaring little Rhaenys, or how tightly Elia’s hands clutched her chair at his screams? Rhaegar doubted it.
“It will be done, my king.”
Rhaegar decided that there was no point in asking those questions. He had no power to actually oppose his father. But soon. Soon he would.
Rhaegar visited the nearby smiths, inspecting the armours and shields, trying to compare them to those of the Knight of the Laughing Tree. Once he did, he inquired which knights had been buying from him, which lords, and after some hesitation, which ladies. Rhaegar tried to remember everything noteworthy from his thorough investigations, and left when he thought he had seen enough.
He found Arthur near one of the gates of Harrenhal, where they had planned to meet after Arthur’s own task.
“Did you find what breed the horse was?”
“It’s one of the northern breeds. I asked around with the stable hands and they said it’s a Ryswell horse. I’ve seen a few in the stables, if you’d like to take a look.”
It didn’t take long for Oswell to join them. Arthur explained what he had found and then asked after Oswell’s own task.
“What did you find from the Freys?”
“They were being tight lipped about it. But I knew Bowen Frey from when he visited Harrenhal. Luckily he’s a half brother to the Frey knights and I managed to wriggle something out.” Oswell explained as he led them back to the courtyard. It was only because of his familiarity with the castle that they had managed to conduct their investigations in relative privacy.
“He tells me there was an incident a few days back. Some Frey squires got into a tussle with a Reed. The Starks got involved and broke them up. He wasn’t clear how.”
“A Reed? I’m not familiar with the house.” Arthur inquired.
“A crannogman house.” Rhaegar answered before Oswell could. “They rule the Neck for House Stark.”
“So it’s clear that the Starks are involved somehow? But which one?” asked Arthur.
“It’s not Eddard, the second son. I saw him in the stands soon after.” answered Oswell.
“Could it be Brandon? He fostered with the Ryswells if memory serves.” Rhaegar suggested.
“I wouldn’t think so.” Arthur contributes. “He’s a bold one. If it was him, he’d have challenged the Freys openly.”
Rhaegar wasn’t so sure. Brandon had been secretive enough when he had brought him the conditions for his father’s support. The dance had been Ashara’s idea, but he was surprised at how the Stark heir managed to distract everyone by being rambunctious.
“For what it’s worth, Brandon wasn’t seen procuring any of the armour we saw on the mystery knight.” Rhaegar agreed. “Also, let’s stop ignoring that the knight was too slight of build to be either of the elder brothers. It could be the youngest Stark or a young Stark bannerman.”
“Or the crannogman.” Oswell added. “They’re known to have small stature.”
Rhaegar hummed in agreement as they reached the stables. Being the lords of the North, the Starks got to actually keep their mounts in the castle stables. Unlike lesser lords who had to improvise in the fields.
Oswell looked around and moved towards a horse. Rhaegar followed, but Arthur stayed behind to watch over them. Rhaegar identified the horse easily. It was of good stock. Not the fastest, but the kind he’d take for longer journeys. Rhaegar inspected it closely. The saddles, the reins, the footholds, the shoes, even its teeth. Then he did so for the two other horses of the same stock.
Just before he felt even his dutiful kingsguard would start to get impatient, Rhaegar got back up and left the stables. Arthur joined him and Oswell from where he had been distracting some stable-hands.
“Did you find anything, my prince?” Arthur asked.
“Some. Though how useful it’d be is yet to be seen. I’m grateful for your hard work regardless, my friends.”
He waited for the two to acknowledge his gratitude before continuing.
“Now come. Let’s see what Jon has found out.”
They went to the outer gates of the castle and looked around. The surrounding area was filled with tents and camps for nobles from all over the Seven Kingdoms. Soon. Soon, his plans would bear fruit.
He could not find Jon. It was Jon’s squire Loras Grandison who found them instead. The boy of three and ten approached them and quickly bowed to Rhaegar.
“My prince, Sers. Have you found the mystery knight yet?” the boy asked excitedly.
“Not quite, Loras. But I do believe Jon knows something that could help us.” He prompted.
“Yes, my prince. Lord Jon has followed the eye witness reports to near the Black Stream. Please let me lead you to him.”
Rhaegar agreed and followed the lad to the Griffin Lord. They found him looking flustered as he argued with a fisherman.
“My prince. My apologies. We followed the knight’s sightings till near this stream, but no one saw where he went after that.”
Rhaegar clapped his friend on his shoulders to calm him down.
“That’s good work, Jon.” Rhaegar looked around and then at the fisherman. He clasped hands with the peasant looking at him in concern, not nearly as confrontational as he was with a visiting lord from a different kingdom.
“And thank you for your help too, good man.” He stated as he slipped two silvers into his hands.
Rhaegar ignored the man thanking him profusely and addressed Jon.
“Come, show exactly where he was seen.”
Rhaegar listened through all the smallfolk accounts Jon had gathered, then a yards back, imagined himself the mystery knight escaping pursuit, and then ran to the last place the knight was seen. He stopped, then ran a little further, then stopped again.
“That’s the Godswoods, is it not?”
“Aye, my prince.” Oswell answered looking at the small pathway that led to the walled forest. “Do you suspect he went in there?”
“I suspect that it could be a good place to lose pursuers.”
“Forgive me, my prince. But a forest is only as good a place to hide as your familiarity to it.” Jon cautioned them. “And knights in my experience seldom know anything about Godswoods.”
“True.” Arthur agreed. “But the story is different if the knight is a Northerner and a follower of the Old Gods.”
“I see. My apologies, Prince Rhaegar. I neglected that possibility.” Jon apologised.
“With good reason, my friend. Come. Let’s see an end to our quest.”
They entered the weirwoods but there was no obvious mystery knight sitting in wait for them. The area was huge, and they decided to split up. Rhaegar and Arthur headed straight along the stream. Jon took Loras to the left, while Oswell took a Connington man-at-arms to the right.
They kept mostly to the beaten path. Rhaegar did not expect to just run into the mystery knight. More likely, he came here to hide his armour and shield before escaping. So he kept an eye out for hiding places, or shrubbery that looked disturbed. They met a few people, but none that fit the profile of the one he sought. Children who had snuck there to play, burly men to pray for success in the tourney, an old woman who looked to be a caretaker of some sort.
When he first saw her, he almost mistook her for a servant. Except she was knelt before the weirwood tree, the anguished face looking down upon her. She was dressed in dark breeches and dark tunic. Not how a maid would dress. He didn't know why but he spent a moment imagining her in a dress. And only then did he recognize her.
“Lady Lyanna. I had not thought to see you here.” Rhaegar slowed to a halt, but motioned Arthur to continue on ahead,
She turned towards him, and stood slowly.
“Prince Rhaegar.” She attempted a courtesy. “I have always found solace among the Old Gods. The gods that my family worships.”
“As you should,” Rhaegar conceded.
“Not the gods that your family worships.”
“Yes, they’re not.” Rhaegar admitted.
“So is it not your grace who is unexpected in the Godswood?”
“Ah, well. I suppose I'm here to find something as well." Rhaegar didn't know what, but something about her had him distracted. Like there was something right in front of him that he should've noticed.
"Perhaps, I shall leave you to your.. search. I wish you luck for the tourney, your grace." She curtsied again, and began to leave.
But Rhaegar was thinking back to what the smiths had told him. Of the people who had bought the type of armour he was looking for, he remembered, there was a young girl. And also..
“Those are some good quality boots, my lady.”
She stopped.
“Had you gone riding before you came here?”
“And what if I had?”
His question should have been innocuous. But she had gotten angry. Peculiar, he thought.
“Hmm.” He tried prompting her to keep talking.
“Do I need permission from your grace to ride a horse, now?”
“I am just surprised you knew how to ride a horse.” He said, trying to rile her up.
“What would you know? I’m the best rider in the Nor- I mean, in Winterfell.”
He found it weirdly amusing. Rhaegar couldn’t imagine Elia or Ashara ever falling for a taunt like that.
"Then, perhaps I'd like to see you ride one day, Lady Lyanna." Rhaegar said as he moved towards the stream.
"Though, I did wonder. Your boots. How did they get wet?."
There, once he was actually looking for it, he found the prints of her boots leading up to a bush at the edge of the stream.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"I did say that I was searching for something." He said as he leaned over and looked under the bush. A shield submerged at the edge of the stream, held down by a rock.
It wasn't a bad arrangement to hide them. Somehow Rhaegar couldn't see Elia or Ashara coming up with this, either.
He turned back towards the Stark daughter and felt that he should've been more surprised when he found something sharp in her hand.
"You said you were good at horse riding. Perhaps good enough to unhorse a few knights, my lady?"
It was a sharp piece of wood. The tip of a lance, Rhaegar would wager. Though she didn't aim it at him, and he was hopeful that he wouldn't have to hurt her.
“I heard about those Frey boys, my lady. They were involved in some scuffle with one of your father’s bannermen, were they not?” He diverted the conversation to something she'd be more willing to talk about. "Could you tell me what happened, my lady?"
Rhaegar thought he saw her relax. Her jaw become less stubborn, her eyes less defiant, hopefully at his comforting tone.
“Those three boys are craven. They attacked Howland after they ambushed him when he was alone. If I hadn’t stopped them, he would really have been hurt!”
“Then I’m sure Lord Howland was grateful for your intervention. Was he hurt too much? I could arrange for a maester if he hasn’t already seen one.”
“He’s bruised, but the crannogmen have their own balms and poultices. Thank you for offering though. I can ask him if he’d like to see the maester.”
“Very well. Now let’s talk about the mystery knight.”
“I didn’t even demand their armour and horses. If Lord Frey is angry..”
“Lord Frey, is the least of your worries.” He interrupted. Rhaegar took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “What the mystery knight did was brave, and perhaps at a different time he might even have been honoured for it. But the King has been very tense lately. I fear that he has taken the appearance of a skilled mystery rider as some threat to himself. I’m afraid that if this mystery knight is found, the King might punish him excessively.”
Her jaw fell open, and he suspected that it was only her noble training that stopped her from spluttering. Rhaegar had suspicions that the girl was unaware of the consequences her actions had wrought, the fact that she had hidden the shield and armour instead of just throwing it away, gave more weight to them, but this confirmed it.
“But all I did was defeat the Frey knights! I didn’t even approach the king or the royal audience box!” She pleaded, looking aghast.
“And I believe you. But the king has already decided that the mystery knight is a threat. And Kings do not like to be told that they are wrong.”
“Why do you keep saying ‘mystery knight’? And my father won’t allow me to be hurt. My father is Lord Stark!” She argued, apparently having forgotten all the courtesies one would need to observe when talking to a prince.
“Those two questions have the same answer. I do not have the time to explain everything before someone comes and interrupts us. But being a Stark will only make things worse. It would only make the King more wroth, more certain that there was a conspiracy to harm his person. And worse yet, his suspicions would extend to House Stark.”
“What are you implying, Prince Rhaegar? Are you truly suggesting that me riding as a mystery knight in a stupid tourney is some symbol of treachery from House Stark? That something this stupid could lead to war?”
Rhaegar didn’t really wish to believe it either. But he had learned that the more scared a person was, the more cruel he could be. And since the Defiance of Duskendale, his father had been constantly afraid.
“In the worst case scenario,” Rhaegar stepped closer and looked into her eyes with utmost sincerity. “But I promise you, on my status as the crown prince, on my honour, I shall not let the realm fall into war. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”
She blushed and looked away. Rhaegar smiled and took a step back.
“Now, as for your second question. The reason I kept saying ‘mystery knight’ is because I don’t intend for your identity to ever be found out. I will take the shield with me and proclaim that the mystery knight has vanished. And that would be the end of it.”