The Dragon of Duskendale -- A Song of Ice and Fire Fanfic

Chapter 31

"Do you suppose I'm next?"

His brother glanced over, amusement in his violet eyes. He looked every inch a crown prince today, in red and black with his silver hair styled. Aelor had to give Rhaegar credit for knowing how to make a good impression. "What, to be married? I would think so. It's not likely to be your man Renfred."

Aelor laughed at that, absentmindedly adjusting his own tunic for the fifth time, causing the warring white dragons to shift. "No, I don't see Ren ever going for that." Even now his friend was likely somewhere on the Street of Silk, as Renfred loved nothing more than a woman. He was a good man and a better friend, but the notion of a wife terrified him.

The Lord of Duskendale didn't mind it, though. Someday, if father trusts me enough to not try and usurp him once I have children of my own, or some other such foolishness.

But that was not the purpose of today. No point in dwelling on the king in what should be a moment of joy. "Her brother will be here, I imagine."

Rhaegar nodded, eyeing the approaching ship with billowing orange sails. "His reputation precedes him. I imagine Renfred will have company on the Street of Silk within the hour."

"The rumors around him are...different."

Rhaegar laughed, patting Aelor on the shoulder. He was taller than Rhaegar now. Had been, for over a year, and stronger for longer than that. "From what Elia's letters claim, the rumors are a pale comparison to the truth."

Aelor wasn't sure what to make of that, so he turned back to watching the ship with his brother. To his surprise, Rhaegar spoke again. His voice was soft, quiet enough that not even Ser Oswell or Ser Barristan would be able to hear; Aelor barely could himself. "Father grows worse."

The Lord of Duskendale—he was still getting used to that title and the responsibilities it included—felt a flash of fear and anger, followed immediately by guilt. "I know. Mother..."

Rhaegar shifted uncomfortably, though his charming smile remained painted on his face as the Dornish ship neared the dock, her deckhands throwing ropes to waiting hands on the dock. "Yes. Ever since Duskendale, his eccentrics have grown steadily worse."

Aelor swallowed, lacking Rhaegar's ability to keep his emotions from his face, though he made an honest effort of it. "What do we do?"

The heir to the Seven Kingdoms hesitated, then shrugged lightly. "There is not much we can, at least not right now. We attend my wedding, we protect our brother and Vis as best we are able, and we try to limit the damage our father's cruelties cause among the nobles and smallfolk. We act as princes should."

The younger brother nodded, his confidence in the elder full and complete. If Rhaegar had planned that course for them, then he must have the right of it. They had fought many times in their youth, and Aelor had no doubts that they would fight many more in the future, but Rhaegar was right much more often than he wasn't. "As you say. I'll support you when the time comes, whenever and whatever that might mean."

Rhaegar suddenly turned to look so directly at Aelor that it caught the younger brother by surprise, all traces of his smile gone. "Would you, brother?"

The Lord of Duskendale was still off balance, thrown by the elder brother's sudden seriousness and intense stare. "Would I what?"

The heir to the Seven Kingdoms had a tilt to his head, eyes of violet deadly serious. "Support me, when the time came. Whenever and whatever that might mean."

He was not the diplomat his brother was, Rhaegar able to speak of subjects without ever mentioning them or any names involved, but Aelor knew he was not speaking in general terms. Does he mean to depose father? Is he hinting at something of that nature? Aelor hesitated, unsure what to say. It was one thing to promise unwavering support for your elder brother when that support meant doing what you would be doing anyway, trying to figure out how to run Duskendale and otherwise not make a fool of yourself. It was another to promise that support when it might mean something more dire, something like civil war against their own father.