The Emancipation of Rhaegar

Chapter 58

Mimi's Smile

Kingslanding

It had been a moon since Rhaella's passing, they held a funeral two days later in the Sept of Baelor. The purple painted pebbles placed delicately on Rhaella's eyes reminding Rhaegar of his sweet mother's eyes. Aerys had not attended, worried for his own safety, but had retired to his rooms for the entire two days.

Brandon's forces were rumoured to be half a moon away from Kingslanding, having passed Riverrun and the Stormlands – Arianne watched as the Keep was transformed from a peaceful place she had called home to a soldier's training ground. Every possible open space was occupied with men awaiting the arrival of the Northern rebellion, colours and sigils she had never seen flying high around the Keep's gates, and armour decorated differently showing her just how seriously this war was becoming.

Rhaegar, who had summoned Tywin to Kingslanding for the very reason of war counsel, had been excluded by Aerys from the actual council. Rhaegar paid no mind to it, ignoring his father's wishes for once in his life and creating his own detached council. It was made up of Tywin, who had provided and promised some ten-thousand men and gold to pay for their expenses; Mace, who had provided twenty-thousand men and grain to keep them sustained should the Keep fall under siege – something Tywin had sworn to Rhaegar would not occur. Prince Oberyn and Prince Doran had shipped their best soldier's along, Oberyn returning to the place he had worked so hard to be free of – he was glad to see old faces though. Tywin, Oberyn, Mace, Julian and Otto. He was happy with that. His council would grow as those who had been summoned came to Kingslanding.

They had heard a few things about Brandon's requests, one of the key ones being his proclamation to free the North from the Seven Kingdoms. He had also sent a messenger a week ago to inform them of these requests.

"He's just going as high as he can to see what he can squeeze from you," Tywin said, watching as the Northern messenger shook in his leather boots. "Who are you boy? Whose son? Whose brother? What family do you belong to?" He demanded, holding his hands behind his back as he questioned the young boy.

They were stood just a little way from the castle gates, heavily guarded and secluded from any onlookers.

The boy whimpered, "I-I-I I am of House Tully, a nephew to Hoster Tully."

Rhaegar looked to Tywin for support, "you will tell us all you can occurring in the Northern camp."

"My lord, I cannot."

"Then I shall have return you back to your uncle piece by piece, is this what you desire?" The older man responded, Rhaegar wanted to interrupt but knew Tywin would do no such thing ... he hoped.

The boy looked from the Prince to the lord and gave a defeated sigh. "They are about half a moon ride away. You've made it a little easy. House Grafton of the refused the call of the Arryn's. Houses Darry, Ryger, Goodbrook and Mooton refused their call from us -," he referred to the Tully's, "Houses Fell, Cafferen, Grandison and Connington refused the call of the Stormlands. House Connington-,"

"Did I ask for schooling?" Tywin asked the boy, nearing him. "I asked you to tell us all can about the Northern camp. We know about those loyal to us standing for what is right. Now ... will you tell us?"

The boy, who had been skirting around giving important information sighed once more. "They have forty thousand men, seasoned fighters. My cousin, Lysa, was married to Jon Arryn as an alliance with the Vale."

"Are they angry?" Rhaegar asked him.

"Very your grace. King-,"

"King?" Tywin looked back to Rhaegar. He had told Rhaegar the only way that the Lannister's would support the Targaryen's was if he took the crown from his father, peacefully or not. And now Brandon was not only demanding the North be independent, but he had crowned himself as King. He was not one to stay on a losing side and needed Rhaegar to make his moves, quickly.