####
King's Landing, Red Keep,
"Dead, dead, dead, all of them falling like flies! Incompetent fools! What am I raising? A curse on my name, a blot on my house! How dare they! How dare they!" King Aerys roared in fury, his anger no longer able to be controlled. "Lord Qarlton Chelsted! You're the new Hand! And Rhaegar... my son!"
"Father, I am here now." Rhaegar was finally present in the court, his eyes wide, pupils blown out. "Grant me the command. I will take the field."
"Take them! Take every last wretch! Spill their blood for me! Their heads, yes, I want their heads on spikes! All of them... all but the giant. The giant is mine. My beast. My champion. I should have broken him, yes, shackled him in the black cells where only the rats remember. Go now, Rhaegar, my jewel, my flame. I have summoned Dorne. Dorne obeys. Go and burn them. Burn them all for me. Show them what the dragon remembers!"
"..."
There was silence in the hall.
"I will, Father." The Prince bowed his head and turned, placing his scarf back around his neck. It reached all the way till his nose, hiding his mouth that lacked three front teeth, now replaced with silver. But he despised looking at himself now, or anyone looking at him.
Rhaegar didn't get far from the throne room, however. As soon as he was out, he turned around and stared at Ser Barristan. The prince no longer had the gentle smile that usually covered his face.
"You must know something, don't you?" Rhaegar said. "You must know what happened. You have to... I need to hear it."
Ser Barristan was confused. "I don't know what you're asking, Your Grace."
"Ser Gerold! Ser Dayne! Where have they gone? I sent them to keep Lyanna safe. Where? Tell me! Where are they?" His voice cracked as he shoved the Kingsguard back against the cold wall. "Where is my Lyanna? Did they turn against me? Did they betray me?"
Ser Barristan frowned, finding a rare glint in Rhaegar's eyes that he'd only ever seen in King Aerys. "I… I have no idea, Your Grace. I've been in King's Landing all this time. I saw Ser Gerold right when you sent them away."
"Where... where are they? My Lyanna, s-she… she… she'll give me the third. The dragon. The third head. She must. Ser Barristan, she can't be dead. She can't."
Thud!
Rhaegar fell to his knees, against Ser Barristan's legs, breaking out in rambling.
"She... she was the one. I know it now. The dreams—they showed me. Her face, over and over. She was the key, the mother of the prince that was promised. I saw her in the flames. I felt it." Prince Rhaegar murmured. "I went there. I saw what was left. Fire... smoke... bones everywhere. They turned their backs. Ser Gerold, Ser Arthur... they said they believed, but they left me."
Ser Barristan swallowed a hard breath, trying to piece it all together. He tried to lift the prince by his shoulders. "I… I didn't know that you and Lady Lyanna were lovers."
"Lovers?" Rhaegar jumped to his feet and glared at Ser Barristan. "Lovers… that's what we were meant to be. She was promised to me by fate. And still, she refused. She dared refuse me. I loved her—loved her with everything. How could she deny?"
"Then… you abducted her?" Ser Barristan asked hesitantly.
"I had to... I had to, don't you see? It was the prophecy. The prince that was promised. But... It's all dust now. She's gone. Just... ashes. And the Lannisters. Gods! The Lannisters did this!" Rhaegar declared and took out a torn piece of cloth from his pocket. "See it... Look at it. Black dogs. Their sigil. House Clegane. Lannister's beasts. They were there. I know it. They burned the tower. They burned it all. The Tower of Joy... and Lyanna... my Lyanna... they killed her."
"..."
Ser Barristan was speechless at that point. He didn't know what to believe and what not to. The prince really abducted Lyanna. That meant the burning of Lord Stark was an injustice by the King. And now, the Lannisters killing Lyanna.
"My Prince… We must end the rebellion first."
"Yes... yes, Ser Barristan. The rebellion must die first. And then... then the lions. I'll tear them out, root and fang."
"..."
The famed Kingsguard merely nodded to that. He lacked the words to respond. How a promising young man could turn so wicked so fast, he saw it firsthand.
The more Rhaegar spoke, the harder it became to tell if it was the prince or the King.
####
Riverlands,
Joanna, the maid with the fantastic mouth, was right. Wylis was no longer a nobody. His name had spread far and wide through countless ravens exchanged between noble houses. Wylis was no longer a nameless muck-shoveling stableboy.
Ser Wylis of Winterfell, the Northern Wall—They called him that.
Wylis didn't like that name. He wanted to be called the Northern Tyrant, as he reckoned the Tyrant's Squire would be happy. But again, he was nowhere near the status of a Tyrant, so it made sense. Besides, they called him the Northern Wall because nobody was able to pass him yet. Wylis had won every single battle.
Over the weeks and months, there had been many more skirmishes throughout the Riverlands, thanks to a few Targaryen loyalists in the Riverlands and the Vale. And Wylis willingly went out with Stormlands' men to fight.
Each time, he returned victorious with the severed head of the enemy commander. His name and his fame grew exponentially amongst the men. And through men, it spread far and wide.
Still, that didn't mean his road was smooth. Nearly fifteen assassination attempts were made on his life, more than any other man in the army. Usually, the ones who attacked Wylis were from their own army. They were enticed by the prospect of earning a million gold Dragons from the Mad King if they killed Wylis.
That was the annoying part. King Aerys still hadn't taken back the bounty.
But that was all in the past.
After a month of being stationed at the Inn of the Kneeling Man and defeating the loyalist forces that tried to attack Riverrun, Wylis was called back to Riverrun for a gathering of all rebelling lords. While not a lord, Wylis was highly valued as a commander by then, since he practically replaced Robert while the man was injured.
"Ser Wylis."
"My Lady." Wylis greeted Catelyn Stark, the woman glowing with whatever the hell Eddard was doing to her.
"They're waiting for you," she said and walked away.
Wylis shrugged and knocked on Lord Hoster's solar's door. "It's Wylis."
"Come in."
He pushed the door open. It was a simple, clean study for official work. Elegantly decorated with books and ornaments. But none of that mattered. Four men occupied the room. Robert sat in the larger chair, Eddard stood beside Robert, while Lord Hoster and Lord Jon Arryn sat in the two available seats.
What's going on here?
"Come here, lad." Jon Arryn gestured to him.
"Did something happen?" Wylis asked as he closed the door and walked beside the table. He noticed a book on the table and connected some dots.
"We are trying to bring the lords together for this fight," Lord Hoster explained. "They scatter now, each making their own camp. We must end that."
"I've noticed that," Wylis said.
"Why? You have an idea?" Lord Hoster asked, for whatever reason.
Wylis hummed and acted like thinking. Then, acting perfectly like he had a eureka moment, he stared at Robert's face. "Let me think… If I recall correctly, this stag's got wings, no? A third Targaryen, if memory serves. Wouldn't that give Robert a rightful claim to the throne?"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
The room fell into silence. They all stared at Wylis' face like they had just seen a ghost. That was exactly what they were discussing in that room. And somehow, Wylis had just guessed that correctly.
"How… did you come to that conclusion?" Jon Arryn asked.
Wylis shrugged, acting as if it were the most logical thing. "My Lord, my frame may be thick, but my head isn't."
"Bahah! Gods, Wylis, you bloody rogue, that's why I keep you close!" Robert bellowed heartily and rose to his feet. He threw an arm around Wylis' shoulder, one of the few men who could, albeit he still struggled. "You're right, that's the plan. Me, the King! Can you believe it? And you, I remember you wanted to establish your own house. Well then, I'll make it official. Tomorrow's feast, I name you Lord."
"..."
What?
"You would do that?"
Wylis felt goosebumps rise on his skin. That was his dream of two lives. To become a lord. To govern a land like a real ruler. To manage that land and make it prosper.
"By the gods, Wylis, you've fought and bled in this rebellion as much as me and Ned. Maybe more! Every time we send you off, you come back swinging a bloody head. I've said it before and I'll shout it again—may Lord Rickard rest easy, but he was a damned fool. Sorry, Ned. You were wasted in the cold for too long. Look at you now! A true warrior, shining in battle. You've earned every bit of this."
Wylis smiled, nodding. Who doesn't like praise? Being acknowledged for your hard work. Everyone liked that. But he couldn't help the unease.
This… feels like a trap. I can feel it. Fucker's going to give me some shitty castle in Stormlands, I know it!
"I'd like that. Always dreamed of naming a house—House Kaiser." Wylis revealed his dream openly to the four men. And seeing them agree, even Eddard, made him confident. "But not yet. Not tomorrow. I've done what I can, but it won't still the tongues of every lord. They'll say you show me favor because of friendship, not merit."
"Lad's right." Jon Arryn said. "Plenty speak against having him already. They care too much about lineage and blood, ignoring the merit."
"To hell with them! I'll bash their heads!" Robert declared.
Wylis only felt bad hearing that. Robert was just like that. A bastard for sure, but as a friend, you wouldn't want anyone but him watching your back.
"I say," Wylis smirked then, a grin that Robert had seen before. "Do it when your ass lands on the Iron Throne. In the same hall that mad cunt tried to make me a court jester."
The reason was deeper. If Robert did it tomorrow, the other lords had no obligation to accept it, as Robert had no real authority. But from the Iron Throne, nobody would refuse. Besides, by then, Wylis' merit would become undeniable.
"Hah!" Robert grinned back. "I knew you had a plan in that fat skull of yours. Aye, let's do it. King Robert will proclaim the rise of House Kaiser for my giant friend Wylis. Seven gods, I'm already feeling grand!"
Ting!
[New Side Quest - Birth Of A Tyrant
Description - Bring the entire battlefield to a five-second standstill during the Battle of the Trident.
Reward - Battle Aura: 30% Strength boost in a battlefield.]
Oh?
"Wylis? What happened?" Lord Hoster voiced.
"Ah, nothing." Wylis shook his head and put an arm around Robert's shoulder, cheering loudly. "Let's win you a throne!"
Robert threw an arm on Eddard's shoulder and repeated the same. "Let's fucking win me the throne!"
"Aye."
"Ugh," Robert grunted. "For fucks sake, Ned. Proclaim it like me and Wylis. Your woman screams louder than you."
"..."
"Let's win you a throne, Robert!"
Robert sighed again. "Still weaker than Cat's screams."
"..."
Perhaps something broke, a vein bulged on Eddard's temple, and he ended up howling.
"Let's win you a damn throne!"
"YEAH!"
"Let's do it!"
Wylis was there to hype Robert up.
Robert was enough to hype himself up.
Lord Hoster Tully and Lord Jon Arryn just watched the three young men while smiling, imagining what the future of Westeros would look like soon.
______________________
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