Rhaegar
The road to Winterfell is long and cold, that much Prince Rhaegar Targaryen knows. Even though he is still injured from the battle at the Trident, he urges his men to take him to Winterfell. Eddard Stark sent him a note by raven, telling him about Lyanna's fate, but also with a shocking revelation: he has a son.
'A boy,' Eddard had written in black ink, 'who has yet to be named. Lyanna did not give a name before she passed. Come to Winterfell as soon as you can. I will have a wet nurse tend to your child in the meantime.'
And off Rhaegar and his men went, his body still bruised and sore, but his heart hammering with excitement. "A son," he whispers, slumped down in the carriage as it travels down the road.
"Lyanna," he feels his indigo eyes burn with tears. "This is your last gift to me." He smiles, letting the tears flow as he looks at his bruised and bloody knuckles. His son would be the only family he has left. Daenerys and Viserys are already dead, having been killed by Robert Baratheon during the sack of King's Landing. Since Rhaegar had won the battle and slain Robert, he would be crowned king once he got back to the Red Keep with his son.
The wind howls outside of the carriage, signaling a snowstorm coming. Once Rhaegar gets to Winterfell, he will have to stay a day or two, waiting for the storm to pass. By nightfall, they arrive at Winterfell, in the land of House Stark. Rhaegar pulls his cloak tighter around his body, not used to the cold this far up North.
Luckily, Winterfell is warm due to the hot springs under the large foundation, flowing through the rocks like the veins of a beast. Rhaegar steps out of the carriage, his silver-white hair blowing in the harsh wind. He hurries into the main hall, his few guards following behind him. The heavy wooden doors slam with a bang, the large fireplace already warming the soon to be king.
Eddard Stark walks over and bows his head in respect. "Your Grace," he whispers, nodding somberly.
"Eddard," Rhaegar says, breathless. "Where is my son?"
"Follow me," Ned says, leading him down a winding hall. Rhaegar follows, nearly tripping on his snow covered boots.
Rhaegar and Ned's relationship has been strained since Lyanna's passing, but Rhaegar hopes to make amends once he is king of Westeros.
He is led into a quiet room where Winterfell's staff sleeps. The room is mainly empty, save for a few of the female staff tending to the infant. The wet nurse looks up and bows her head respectfully at the crown prince and Lord of Winterfell.
Rhaegar is handed the baby boy and gasps softly.
"We can leave you alone, if needed be," Ned whispers. Rhaegar nods. Both Ned and the nurse leave, closing the door softly. "You look like Lyanna," he smiles, letting his tears fall. The baby prince is asleep, unaware that his father is holding him so close to his heart. "You're beautiful," Rhaegar whispers, sitting down in one of the beds to get a better look at his son.
His hair is jet black, but Rhaegar cannot see his eyes, not yet. He is a small baby, but he looks healthy. That's all that matters to Rhaegar. "Your name," Rhaegar murmurs, stroking his son's cheek with his thumb, "will be Aegon Targaryen. But your nickname will be Jon, Lyanna liked the name Jon. This is the least I could do for her..."
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
From Low Born to King
Fanfiction(Game of Thrones Alternate Universe Fanfiction.) When his mother Lyanna died in childbirth, Jon, also known by his Targaryen name Aegon, is raised by his father Rhaegar. Even though Jon is a Targaryen by blood, many people do not believe this, sinc...
