The Last Dragon -Rhaegar's Story

The Song

Lord Whent did really plan it all and ended up executing it well.

A harp was brought, a custioned chair given, and I was left to do the rest. Hump, why do I forget about this? Always?

My fingers trace the smooth golden harp as I take my seat. To whoever created this instrument of pleasure, he owns me completely. I would have lost all pleasure of life without this.

My eyes dart around the room, taking in the various expressions on the faces of the audience. I finally meet my Father's gaze, as stiff as stone, and know what song to play.

Taking a deep breath, I escape from my body, from this room, to a woodland thousands of miles away. The sun is setting, and the green trees cast long shadows upon me. I smell the winter roses and hear the birds singing.

My fingers move on their own accord, one finger moving a string at a time as I pick up the tune. Jenny's song has always been one of my favourites, a perfect blend of our society and what it results in.

I start from The beginning, with Jenny of Oldstone falling in love with Duncan Targaryen. Becoming the everpresent person in her story, I watch the characters move in my mind and will my arms to play the emotions I feel.

Duncan Targaryen loved her so much that he married her against his father's wish, and even gave up his right to the throne for this.Various events in this history come out from my song, falling in love, rejection, realisation, bonding, love, and fight for love. Though it is a great story, the song is a sad one. Sometimes, even the best of us suffer the worst, prove that we are strong, but we still lose. I guess that is life, choosing not the fighter but the changer to live on.

A sharp pain brings me back to my body. I massage my right brow again, trying in vain to lessen the ache.

It was Jenny who had changed my world, though she is long dead. I was reading The History of Tragaryen for the first time when I stumbled upon the story of Duncan Targaryen. The Prince that was Promised. The prophecy. All neatly placed in one sad song. The Prince would be born from the line of Prince Aerys and Princess Rhaella, the woods witch had said. My parents..

As I open my eyes, the silence deafens me. The Lords and Ladies are staring at me, paralyzed. Many of the ladies have tears raining down their face, hardly trying to cover up their emotions.

My gaze catches upon the Stark table. The wolves are always the first to recover their wits. A young lady stares with wildfire at, I suppose, her brother. Benjen, yes that is his name. Why is he dripping wet? The girl must be Lyda? Lyanna.

Lyanna. I taste the new name and see the young wolf for the first time. Lovely brown hair, a pale long face and blazing grey eyes. Beautiful. Even more beautiful with the fire in her eyes.

"Excellent, my Prince!" My stare breaks from the sudden noise. With one glance, I see that it was See Richard Lonmouth.

Standing up, I smile at Richard and give a courteous bow. The people go wild then, Lords cheering with their wine cups and Ladies clapping frantically. But it is not their approval I desire.

The Mad King stares at me, slowly chewing the meat. Analysing this. My cheek muscles move into a smile as I realise that I can read him well enough. He got the message then. I am his son, his heir, and have a part to play in this prophecy. That I cannot betray him, nor he I.

As I move to exit the hall, people congratulate me on my performance. "Outstandingly done!" "It made my tough Lady weep!" "I can still hear the song!" "Oh, My Prince!"

I smile graciously and offer my thanks, often bowing. But I depart quickly. Only when I slam my room door shut do I relax.

This isn't right. The Prince was Promised. It sure isn't me, but it doesn't add up. Three saviours. THREE. But where is the third?

In my miserable state, a thought lights me up. Lyanna. I can still picture her, staring at her brother. A genuine smile races across my face.

"My Lord?" A voice wakes me into the reality.

"Elia." Turning, I open the door to greet my lovely wife, who currently has a serious expression on her face. "What-"

"Have you given any thought to what we discussed?" Right to point. Her deep dark eyes bore into mine, demanding an answer. She gently tugs the door close and sits on the lavish bed.

I look down at my boots and scratch my eyebrow. "Elia, maybe-"

"It doesn't have to be public," she cuts me. Her arms reach mine and our finger wrap. "Just a few can know to make it official."

"Oh Elia." The thought of polygamy troubles me. I clutch her fingers. " This isn't right-"

"'The dragon has three heads.'" Her voice never quavers. " I cannot, but someone has to, Rhaegar."

Her words once again hang in the air. To choose another...

"Who can be that strong?" I ask my Lady. " There is a reason why we Tragaryens prefer incest. You may not know this for this isn't something the common folk know, but our blood burns. Our blood has the fire of the dragon. Intimate relations aren't favoured because the person out of our blood cannot sustain it." I untangle our hands. "Look at what happened to you, with me. Your health declined to such a low level. And you are my distant cousin. What happens to one out of my bloodline?"

It is my words that hang into the air now. I look up at Elia and see that she is thinking over my words in that clever brain of hers.

"If the saviour is promised, then it will happen," Elia finally replies. " If it must happen, there will come a way for it to, Rhaegar."

"Why are you doing this, Elia?" Nothing about this makes sense.

"Because I, like you, have a part to play," she replies softly.

I nod, for her sake more than mine. I wish to truly believe her, but I am nothing but uncertain. Closing my eyes, I welcome the darkness, but instead find a young grey eyed girl looking up at me.

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Guy, if you find any fact from the books that contradict the story, please tell me. I have researched hard to get every thing right but mistakes can still be there.

—Fangirl3321