Chapter 11
Rhaegar knelt, his knees trembling, and Regulus looked down at his silver hair, his eyes turning to the girl in the bed. Her bottom half was coated in blood, and she had black rose petals in her hand.
“You can do it, can’t you?” Rhaegar looked up at him pleadingly. Ned stopped struggling, and all the knights and the nurse turned to him with curious eyes.
Regulus disentangled himself from Rhaegar’s grasp and stepped over to the girl. She looked so small, her skin as white as snow and her eyes shut tight.
“No, I’m sorry.”
“What? Why not?” Rhaegar stood up with tears in his eyes. “I’ve seen you make flames from thin air. I watched you fly on a broom, and you brought us here from Riverrun with no ship or horse. How is this any different?”
“Because she’s dead,” said Regulus. “If I had arrived here even an hour sooner, I might have been able to heal her. But there is no magic that can bring back the dead.”
“No!” Rhaegar growled, walking towards him and gripping his collar. “I command you to bring her back!”
“I’m sorry,” whispered Regulus, and Rhaegar lifted his fist as if to strike him before shoving him back. “Get out! All of you, get out!” he screamed, yelling at everyone present.
Regulus walked out of the room.
Eventually, Ned had to be dragged out of the room with a bloodied lip. Rhaegar had gotten into a fistfight with Ned after Ned blamed Rhaegar for Lyanna’s death and the deaths of his father and brother. Rhaegar refused to be separated from Lyanna and screamed to be left alone.
Eventually, the midwife fled the room with the baby sobbing in her arms. The poor woman looked scared out of her wits as the screaming and shouting continued in the room.
Their eyes met for a second, and he looked curiously at the child.
“It is a boy,” said the woman with a sad smile. “A little princeling.”
A fluff of black hair stared up at him, and Regulus looked down into a pair of large violet eyes—his father's eyes.
“May I hold him?” She nodded, and he felt the small bundle in his arms. Holding out a finger, he caressed the baby’s soft cheeks and wondered if Sirius had ever held him like this.
The large violet eyes stared up at him, and the baby wrapped his small fingers around Regulus's pointer finger.
“What are you doing? Get away from him!” Regulus looked up and found Ned charging towards him. “This is all your fault. If you hadn’t defeated Robert, I would have gotten here sooner and maybe…” His voice trailed off as he moved to snatch the baby from Regulus's arms.
“Stop, please,” begged the midwife. “Think of the babe.”
“I am!” snarled Ned. “Who knows what vile enchantments this demon might cast on my nephew? Give him to me!” He moved to tear the baby from Regulus's arms, and Regulus pulled out his wand and pointed it at the Northman.
“Stupefy!” A bright flash hit Ned Stark square in the chest, and he fell to the ground with a thud. The midwife let out a scream, and Arthur came running out of the tower.
“What happened?” he demanded, glaring at Regulus suspiciously.
“Lord Eddard was a little exhausted. I helped him get some sleep. Don’t worry; he’ll wake in a couple of hours.”
“Give me the child,” said the man, with his hand on the hilt of his strange sword.
Regulus then sighed and handed over the child. His chest felt a little colder as he let go.