Chapter 6
Bright red hair and fair skin. For a single moment, Lady Lysa disappeared, replaced by Lily Evans. Regulus held his wand out, feeling his eyes sting.
“Avada Kedavra!”
Then his vision went black.
***
He awoke in a large bed covered in furs and pillows. He scrambled upwards only to find Rhaegar at his side.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, you’re safe,” he promised, holding both his hands in the air.
“Where is my wand?” asked Regulus, digging through his pockets.
“Here,” Rhaegar handed it to him, and Regulus snatched it jealously.
“You fainted, and it fell on the ground at your side. Lord Tywin tried to pick it up, and it burned through his gloves.”
Regulus grinned, foolish muggle. Surely the wand sensed the lack of magical power and acted accordingly.
“So you picked it up?” Rhaegar nodded, and Regulus hummed.
“Yes, despite Barristan's protest, I was able to grab it without injury.” Rhaegar pulled a chair and sat himself at Regulus’ bedside. “Lord Tywin was most intrigued by you.”
Regulus frowned, trying to remember the name. Ah yes, the man with the large whiskers and shaved head. He’d seemed less than impressed with Regulus—that was until he froze the river solid.
“I’m an intriguing person,” shrugged Regulus, looking around the room. It appeared to be fish-themed, with trout emblems carved into the large four-poster bed. “Where are we?”
“We are in Riverrun, in Lord Hoster’s bedchamber. He, along with the rest of the prisoners, are in the dungeons. The rest of the rebels have bent the knee.”
“And the usurper?”
“On his way to the Wall.” Lord Tywin had protested, insisting that Robert should be put to death, yet Rhaegar had found a sliver of mercy in his heart. Robert’s betrothed had abandoned him, and then Rhaegar’s father had unjustly called for his head.
“So what now?” Rhaegar’s shoulders slumped as he put his head between his knees.
“I have to return home. I have to prepare a coronation and a funeral now that my father is dead. I have to get Lyanna from Dorne and hopefully meet my son.”
“Is Lyanna your wife?” Regulus asked curiously.
“No, my wife is Elia.” Regulus’ eyes widened momentarily, surprised. Not that he should be. Powerful men tended to be less than faithful. “Elia and I were betrothed. It was an arranged marriage, but there has never been love between us. She gave me two children, but never her heart.”
“So you found another?”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” insisted Rhaegar, pain in his eyes. “I found her as she hid from my father. She had entered a tourney dressed as a knight, and my father grew convinced she was mocking him. I found her shedding her armor. Instead of turning her in to my father, I lied and said she escaped. I knew I had to have another child to fulfill the prophecy, and she—”
“Wait? What prophecy?” Regulus was instantly reminded of the Dark Lord. Severus had told him a prophecy foretelling his defeat—a child born soon who would destroy him.
James’ child.
“One that has passed through my family for generations. The reason Aegon and his sisters, Visenya and Rhaenys, conquered the Seven Kingdoms with the might of their dragons. The reason my family sits on the Iron Throne. The song of ice and fire and the prince who was promised.”
Rhaegar turned to Regulus, putting a hand on his arm.
“Regulus, I have seen it, and Lyanna has too. The threat from the far north. Men of living ice and the dead marching south to plunge the world into darkness.” Regulus stared into Rhaegar’s eyes, his Legilimency sensing the fear and urgency in his mind. “That’s why I beg you. Join me; help me find some way to stop the darkness.”
“No.” The word came out as a whisper. Rhaegar flinched, pulling back as Regulus turned and glared at him. “I don’t know anything about the prince or men of ice. But I do know chasing prophecies never leads anywhere good. Your best bet is to forget the damn prophecy and let time unfold as it will.”
“I can't,” said Rhaegar, standing up from his chair. “Not with the fate of the world in the balance. I can’t just sit and do nothing!”
“The future will unfold as it will. Trust me, trying to change or complete a prophecy will only lead to chaos.”
Rhaegar paused, feeling a twisting of guilt in his chest. How many people had died because he and Lyanna had run off together? All for a dream they both believed.
Rhaegar sat back down quietly, and Regulus pulled out his wand. He’d exhausted himself with the killing curse.
“Do you still want to leave Westeros?” asked the prince, and Regulus said nothing.
At first, all he had wanted was to go home. But what was home anyway? The Dark Lord would surely hunt him down once he discovered the missing Horcrux. Sirius hadn’t talked to him in months. His parents were cold and distant, and James…
Regulus felt an ache in his throat and stinging in his eyes.
“Stay,” said the prince softly. “Be a guest at my court. You’ll have all the privileges of a high lord. Help me protect the realm. If not for me, for the innocents, the small folk that need protecting.”
Honestly, Regulus had never cared much for muggles. They were nothing but a bunch of non-magical savages. Yet he’d never found it in his heart to hate them—not like his parents or the Dark Lord.
“Alright,” said Regulus with a sigh. “I’ll stay.”
Rhaegar’s eyes lit up with joy, and he flashed him a smile that took his breath away.
It was beautiful.