A Song of Ice and Fire fic: And Then There Were None
Title: And Then There Were None
Fandom(s): A Song of Ice and Fire
Rating: PG
Word Count: 591
Summary: Secrets cannot be kept forever. Hiding the sole remaining son of Rhaegar Targaryen from the king who hates him most is no exception.
Author’s Notes: Response to this prompt.
And Then There Were None
It takes much wine and convincing from the likes of Varys and Littlefinger, and even Cersei once she hears of the delicious destruction it could cause, but eventually Robert comes to their conclusion. His hands are fists of rage as he stares down at the Book of Houses, at the Targaryen lineage. He flips past Aegon the Conqueror, past Rhaenyra and Daena and Jaehaerys, until he gets to Aerys’s line.
Rhaegar Targaryen, first of his name - violet of eye, silver of hair.
Viserys Targaryen, third of his name - violet of eye, silver of hair.
Daenerys Targaryen, second of her name - violet of eye, silver of hair.
Rhaenys Targaryen, second of her name - brown of eye, brown of hair.
Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name - violet of eye, silver of hair.
Robert glares at the empty space below, imagining.
Jon Targaryen, first of his name - grey of eye, brown of hair.
If the book weren’t such an important tome, he would have ripped out every page of Targaryen history. Every page of Stark history, too. The betrayal stings like a festering wound. Even long dead, the crown prince manages to haunt him. Even long dead, Lyanna’s rejection burns him. Nay, worse than that; of all suitors, and she’d had many, she not only was kidnapped by his mortal enemy, but bore his child. And Ned-
Ned.
Robert’s rage intensifies. His closest friend had lied to him, had hidden this from him. A secret heir to the throne, ferreted away to the icy den of Winterfell. An heir who is the product of a raper and grandson of a madman. In Robert’s wildest dreams he could have never imagined such a sword to the gut.
“A bastard, eh?” Robert laughs. “Looks like not even Ned Stark’s honor can stay a warm cunt! I say you leave the squalling babe to the whorehouse.”
“My friend, he is my blood. I must needs do right by him.”
If Robert had only been more distrustful, mayhaps he would have noticed the sleight of word. My blood, not my son.
He does not know what Ned intends, whether he ever plans on informing the child of his true parentage, but Robert cannot take the risk. The dragon bitch and the beggar king are well across the Narrow Sea, and of little danger at current. But even they would not be the rightful heirs. No, his immediate threat is on the mainland; many leagues north, it is true, but-as much as Robert is loath to admit-with a solid, inarguable right to the crown. The kingdom has a long memory. He is not sure he’d like to bet his life that the Targaryen loyalists would not start an uprising if they learned of a boy king.
There is but one course of action: ride north, claim the boy’s life. Ned forfeited his friendship the moment he deigned to hide the half-breed bastard. Robert will not tolerate such insubordination.
He does not care that his love had mothered the boy. He does not care that the boy is scarcely into his fourteenth year. He does not care that the boy thinks he is a baseborn Stark. He does not care that the boy would likely have no interest in ruling anything, let alone the realm, even if he were a true child of the Lord and Lady Stark. He is Rhaegar’s spawn, that is all Robert needs to know.
Tywin Lannister had killed the first two heads of the dragon. He wants to kill the third.
Fandom(s): A Song of Ice and Fire
Rating: PG
Word Count: 591
Summary: Secrets cannot be kept forever. Hiding the sole remaining son of Rhaegar Targaryen from the king who hates him most is no exception.
Author’s Notes: Response to this prompt.
And Then There Were None
It takes much wine and convincing from the likes of Varys and Littlefinger, and even Cersei once she hears of the delicious destruction it could cause, but eventually Robert comes to their conclusion. His hands are fists of rage as he stares down at the Book of Houses, at the Targaryen lineage. He flips past Aegon the Conqueror, past Rhaenyra and Daena and Jaehaerys, until he gets to Aerys’s line.
Rhaegar Targaryen, first of his name - violet of eye, silver of hair.
Viserys Targaryen, third of his name - violet of eye, silver of hair.
Daenerys Targaryen, second of her name - violet of eye, silver of hair.
Rhaenys Targaryen, second of her name - brown of eye, brown of hair.
Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name - violet of eye, silver of hair.
Robert glares at the empty space below, imagining.
Jon Targaryen, first of his name - grey of eye, brown of hair.
If the book weren’t such an important tome, he would have ripped out every page of Targaryen history. Every page of Stark history, too. The betrayal stings like a festering wound. Even long dead, the crown prince manages to haunt him. Even long dead, Lyanna’s rejection burns him. Nay, worse than that; of all suitors, and she’d had many, she not only was kidnapped by his mortal enemy, but bore his child. And Ned-
Ned.
Robert’s rage intensifies. His closest friend had lied to him, had hidden this from him. A secret heir to the throne, ferreted away to the icy den of Winterfell. An heir who is the product of a raper and grandson of a madman. In Robert’s wildest dreams he could have never imagined such a sword to the gut.
“A bastard, eh?” Robert laughs. “Looks like not even Ned Stark’s honor can stay a warm cunt! I say you leave the squalling babe to the whorehouse.”
“My friend, he is my blood. I must needs do right by him.”
If Robert had only been more distrustful, mayhaps he would have noticed the sleight of word. My blood, not my son.
He does not know what Ned intends, whether he ever plans on informing the child of his true parentage, but Robert cannot take the risk. The dragon bitch and the beggar king are well across the Narrow Sea, and of little danger at current. But even they would not be the rightful heirs. No, his immediate threat is on the mainland; many leagues north, it is true, but-as much as Robert is loath to admit-with a solid, inarguable right to the crown. The kingdom has a long memory. He is not sure he’d like to bet his life that the Targaryen loyalists would not start an uprising if they learned of a boy king.
There is but one course of action: ride north, claim the boy’s life. Ned forfeited his friendship the moment he deigned to hide the half-breed bastard. Robert will not tolerate such insubordination.
He does not care that his love had mothered the boy. He does not care that the boy is scarcely into his fourteenth year. He does not care that the boy thinks he is a baseborn Stark. He does not care that the boy would likely have no interest in ruling anything, let alone the realm, even if he were a true child of the Lord and Lady Stark. He is Rhaegar’s spawn, that is all Robert needs to know.
Tywin Lannister had killed the first two heads of the dragon. He wants to kill the third.