The Gentle Wolf (Rhaegar Targaryen)

Chapter 15

5 Rhaegar

He took her to his chambers. She was treated there, and bled on the bed so much they had to change the mattress.

Prince Lewyin had been right, the arrow had been poisoned. His nephew, Prince Oberyn had been the one to confirm his suspicions. He had barged into Rhaegar's room like he owned the place carrying a purple bundle in his arms. While Maester Pycelle babbled on about how he could regretfully do nothing without prior knowledge of what poison had been used, Prince Oberyn had mixed some herbs on a mortar and crushed them. It smelled horrible, and it would probably burn the skin a little, but he said it was the best option they had at the moment.

"Your Grace, I must protest! There is no common antidote for poison. Each one requires a delicate and precise treatment." Pycelle stuttered while Ser Lewyn gave him a look as he rushed past, took out a thick needle and began to clean it.

"Widow's lover, is what they call the poison. You can tell because it smells too sweet, so sweet it makes me want to retch." Prince Oberyn said without looking up.

Maester Pycelle opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, not knowing how to answer.

"Y-you can't be certain-"

"I am."

Rhaegar pushed the old man aside, who stumbled and fell on his ass to the ground, and hurried to Mel's side. He took a knife and carefully ripped the fabric of the wedding gown around the wound.

"We have to be as quick as possible. I will take out the arrow and apply some of the antidote on the wound."

Rhaegar frowned.

"Is that a good idea? Shouldn't we make her drink it?"

"With how long it took to get her here, we will do both things."

Rhaegar said nothing. It was true it had taken them a while to manage to get into Maegor's Holdfast from the Sept, and he had once read that if you were scared your heartbeat accelerated, which made poison run through the system much faster. He had no doubt Mel had been terrified. They didn't know how further into her system the poison was; the antidote might prove useless at this point. If Prince Oberyn, who had vast knowledge of herbs and poisons was desperate enough to try the most aggressive method, Rhaegar wouldn't question it.

"Your Grace, I-I must protest. This is most unethical. If the Starks hear of this, or the king-"

"SHUT IT! I may not have a dragon, but my sword can silence you just fine!" he roared at the old man, glaring at him. Maester Pycelle retreated, pure fear covering his face. Everyone paused for a moment, except Prince Oberyn.

"Arthur, Jon, help me hold her down so Prince Oberyn can proceed."

Jon pushed one of her legs into the mattress and Arthur took care of the other.

"I will take the arrow out now, don't let her move."

Rhaegar pushed Mel's shoulders down and forced himself to look at her face while the arrow got pulled out. She stirred but didn't wake up.

"I will put some of the antidote in now."

She woke up at that, although she didn't seem conscious of anything other than the pain. Wild eyes stared up at him as she gasped desperately and Rhaegar almost puked. He wouldn't look away.

He had done this to her.

She tried to get free but the men holding her were far stronger than she was. Ser Lewyn approached with the needle and thread and waited as Prince Oberyn cleaned up the wound.