This chapter heralds the dawn of a world Paul Chotic will believe to be the best of all possible worlds.
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Chapter 3: The Brief Wondrous Reign of Rhaegar Targaryen
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However justified Stannis Baratheon may feel in imprisoning me, the conditions of this cell are exceedingly poor. Should I get the chance I shall petition him to move me into quarters more befitting of my rank. Even if that rank is currently nominal.
I am Rhaegar Targaryen, and had I ascended to the Iron Throne I would have been King Rhaegar I. My father put paid to that, it seems, quiet conclusively. Aerys II is my father and I honor him, but he has led this realm and our house to ruin. When I climbed the steps to the Iron Throne he recognized me, and it broke my heart to betray him. I don’t know if he has quite realized what I have done, but he is deposed now. His madness towards the end was quite shocking.
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He did not even seem aware that his foe Robert Baratheon had been slain by Lord Paramount Mace Tyrell nine months ago. (I had completely missed this happening, but fortunately Aerys II is insane enough that I can make it work!)
His brother, Stannis, continued the fight. Our armies were shattered and our allies depleted. My father spoke only of burning the whole realm to ashes, taking wild swings between ludicrous optimism and hopeless despair. I do not doubt he would have destroyed the whole city with wildfire before surrendering. I would have been tempted to do the same. But the realm is more important than our victory, even our house.
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So now I am stripped of all titles except the Lordship of Sharp Point, a title which passed into my demesne barely noticed. I was far too busy fighting the war to dole it out to a vassal or elevate someone to it, and in truth I had forgotten all about it until I surrendered to Stannis Baratheon and his demands did not include it. He is not a man to leave out such details. I do not know what to make of His Grace in permitting me to keep it.
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I imagine numberless scenarios of King Stannis’ wrath. By all accounts he is punctilious to a fault, and I do not expect he will be inclined to show mercy to my family. To my knowledge my children, Aegon and Raenys, and my brother Viserys, remain free and safe with my mother, far to the east in Mantarys. I smuggled them out shortly before moving against my father.
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I believe there is only one means through which I might secure my freedom. A trial. If Stannis does not have me killed or exiled first, I must either await a trial at court or demand a trial by combat. I am a highly proficient warrior, but I am by no means the best in the realms. Given his newfound position on the Iron Throne I expect Stannis could summon the best in the realms, including from his Kingsguard, if they side with him. Considering my father’s cruel killing of Jaime Lannister, I have little reason to doubt they would.
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I elect to wait. To my surprise, within a few days a new war begins. Apparently Prince Doran of Dorne has refused to bend the knee to King Stannis, and Stannis has immediately taken up arms to demand their loyalty. His boldness is beyond doubt.
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Shocking news comes to me a few days later. Doran has reconsidered, convinced that he could not hope to win. To defy the Dragon for over a century, but capitulate to the Stag after a week. How the Dornish have fallen. Westeros is again united, at least up to the Wall. I wonder what fate awaits me now that Stannis can turn his attention to rule.
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With the war lost, I am forced to ‘free’ Lady Lyanna Stark. She is beautiful beyond words, and my heart aches to let her slip away, but what choice have I got? I inform Stannis’ men of her location and she is soon set free.
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Stannis is formally crowned in a ceremony in King’s Landing. From my cell in Storm’s End I learn little of it but I hear it was a grand affair but one he was evidently impatient to be done with. He was prudent to imprison me here, far from whoever may remain loyal to my family. I will one day be free however, and I will restore the Targaryens to the Iron Throne. If not I, then a descendant.
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Having said that, I am moved to King’s Landing. On the way I heard the most bizarre of rumors, and one I cannot accredit. The rumor goes that Lord Eddard Stark, brother of Lyanna, usurper along with Robert Bartheon, has founded a faction to usurp the Iron Throne. Specifically to expel Stannis Baratheon and install… me. (Seriously wtf are you thinking Ned)
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I do not have long to consider this possibility, however absurd it might be. King Stannis himself comes to see me and informs me that I am to stand trial. He offers me the choice between trial by combat and trial at court. I decide upon the latter.
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To my surprise, Prince Doran opposes me. Stannis has presumably demanded it in exchange for letting him keep his Lord Paramountcy. In any event, I muster all my wits and wisdom and I believe I make a compelling case. Yes, my father committed crimes, some of them very grave, but I am not my father. My acts in the war were in deference to my pledges of loyalty to house and liege. I urged him to make amends and to find peace. And when the war was lost, instead of letting King’s Landing burn and thousands die, I overthrew him. I did not even sit upon the Iron Throne before issuing my surrender. If I ever grace that seat, it will not be for a few minutes while I await some pretender who deigns to treat with me. I feel its absence and it fuels my determination to undo all these injustices.
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Doran is at least my equal and makes a striking argument against me. He maintains that my initial taking - kidnap, he insists - of Lyanna Stark was the cause of the whole war and that every subsequent atrocity must rest on my shoulders. I will never admit this out loud but he is right. The burden weighs heavily upon me.
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I am proclaimed guilty. To my visible shock, King Stannis displays mercy upon me - he exiles me to the Wall, to live out my days as a Black Brother of the Night’s Watch. When I travel north and take the vows, I will forsake all claims to my lands and my realms. It will fall to my children to restore our family. But I will, at least, be alive to guide and advise them, however distantly and remotely. I have my life. It is a gift I had not understood the weight of until Stannis pointed at me and I awaited his sentence.
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So ends the reign of Rhaegar Targaryen, Lord of Sharp Point. I was King of the Seven Kingdoms for perhaps three hours; Lord of Sharp Point for four months and a few days. It falls now to my son, dear Aegon, to lead us. He is four years old. It would have been a tremendous burden for me. It agonizes me beyond words to see it on his shoulders. I have no opportunity to await his return from Mantarys before I must go north, so I leave a letter for him.