The Gentle Wolf (Rhaegar Targaryen)

Chapter 8

2- Rhaegar

"Arrange a meeting with Lord Stark tomorrow afternoon, please." He told Jon, who squinted his little eyes in return.

"Already? Surely you have more pressing matters."

"What could be more pressing than getting acquainted with my wife's father?"

"She's not your wife." Jon was quick to point out.

"It's most certain she will be by the end of the month. I personally think that if I were to have a daughter, I'd like to know the man she'll marry beforehand, just to reassure myself I won't be sending her off to a cruel fate."

"You really think Lord Stark cares about that?" Arthur asked, standing in a corner, hand on the pommel of a longsword. It was one of the rare days in which he did not carry around the ancestral sword of his house. Rhaegar wondered if maybe there were times in which Arthur found it simply too uncomfortable to carry such a big weapon around if he was not bound to wield it often, or if maybe he had no wish at all for the burden.

"Why wouldn't he?"

He knew his question was stupid. There were plenty of Lords throwing their daughters, mothers and sisters into socially favorable matches without any regard to the character of the groom. The real surprise came when one of those Lords showed hesitance in the face of marital advantage.

Rhaegar knew very little of Lord Stark's character, but he knew that northerners had a reputation of being as cold blooded as their land; and he knew Lord Stark had sought out southern alliances before. He wondered if he would've accepted to wed his daughter to the king. He wished to believe he wouldn't, but doubt crept up on him.

In any case, the objective of the meeting wasn't just to reassure the man that he'd take care of his daughter, but to also begin his slow, arduous process of gaining supporters. He couldn't just lock his father in a room and place the crown upon his head.

"He seems rather detached." Arthur said, head leaning to a side.

Jon scoffed.

"That's a nice way of putting it."

"It matters not. I wish to speak to the man, and making the matter wait would only add further insult to my father's previous one."

Jon shrugged.

"The king only spoke what everyone else was thinking." He said, voice low but condescending. He scrunched up his nose. "I still don't understand why you're so obsessed with marrying the girl. I suppose she's pretty, but what could a Stark have to offer besides snow and stupid tree gods?"

Rhaegar sighed. He had already explained things to him before, in detail and on numerous occasions.

"I know of my father's obsession with valyrian blood, but I happen to believe that the blood of the first men can be just as beneficial to my house."

"The Starks didn't spend thousands of years marrying their siblings, My prince; their blood must be thin."

"I should hope so; too thick and it won't flow."

Rhaegar laughed at his own silly joke, while his friends stared back, expressions blank.

The prince cleared his throat, eyes going down to the parchment on his desk, the tip of his fingers coming to rest gently atop the wood.

"Well, just ask Lord Stark when it could be a good time to meet. Don't make him feel pressured." He told Jon.

Arthur spoke up:

"What about his daughter?"

"What of her?"

Arthur rolled his eyes.