Chapter 81: The Dragon Rises Again
The situation in Maidenpool was handled swiftly and ruthlessly.
Aside from the demise of the Darklyn Family, everything felt like a dream.
The Butcher of Maidenpool—that's what some common folk called Rhaegar behind his back. Because he was the youngest, yet too dazzling, too ruthless in his actions, surpassing adults.
But no one dared to say this to Rhaegar's face. Violence was also a form of power, and four hundred soldiers were like wolves and tigers. Criticizing someone capable of suppression was simply too difficult.
The army marched toward King's Landing amid triumphant cheers, a resounding victory.
Commanders like Rhaegar, Lord Tywin, and Lord Mooton conversed at ease. Prince Aerys of Dragonstone, however, had no face to claim any merit. His only "achievement" might have been providing others with opportunities to earn glory, once again showcasing his incompetence.
The soldiers were also happy. The Darklyn Family's castle was temporarily managed by the Small Council. All the beautiful horses, clothes, cabinets, and servants of the Darklyn Family that could be plundered were packed and distributed. The wealth of the Darklyn Family and its allied families was completely swept away; in addition to enriching the royal treasury, every soldier received a small reward. They had traveled far to fight—receiving spoils was only natural.
"Rhaegar the Victorious!"
"Fearless Ser Barristan!"
The soldiers cheered Rhaegar and Ser Barristan's names. Soldiers loved victory, especially quick, decisive, and profitable victories. People might accept a trade that involved bloodshed, but no one would accept a trade that lost money.
This war, which ended in just two or three days, was effortless and even brought in gold dragons. Everyone praised Rhaegar and Ser Barristan. Had it been a prolonged, grinding war, the soldiers' love for their commanders would have quickly turned into resentment.
Rhaegar heard that many soldiers wished to transfer into his unit. Although military discipline was strict, victory was the greatest guarantee. Following the Prince meant a future—and a victorious aura.
Rhaegar looked at the soldiers' bright smiles. Leading an army was like leading wild beasts; the army itself was dangerous. Only victory could bring greater influence and trust. A commander's goal was to achieve a perfect victory while protecting his soldiers as much as possible.
Rhaegar soon noticed a new sycophant among the ranks—Ser Jeremy Lykke, whose temperament oddly resembled that of Larys Strong from earlier histories. Ser Lykke was anxious and restless. The seat of the lordship of Maidenpool glittered before his eyes, and he desperately coveted it. With his old rival, the Darklyn Family, completely destroyed, who else could possibly claim the position?
Ser Jeremy flattered every important figure he could approach, especially Lord Mooton, Lord Tywin, Prince Aerys of Dragonstone, and Prince Rhaegar.
"Ser, you act more like a servant than a warrior. It was Prince Rhaegar who personally served as bait on the front lines, and Ser Barristan who launched the surprise attack to rescue the Prince of Dragonstone. Aside from relaying messages, how much credit do you truly have in this battle?"
Lord Tywin once mocked Ser Jeremy in this manner, yet the man remained unchanged. Despite the scolding, coordination was still required.
"Prince Rhaegar, to be honest, my house possesses a pair of ancestral warhammers, said to have been passed down since the Age of Heroes. If Your Grace does not mind, I would be honored to present them for your inspection. Our family history is also long, and the black warhammers have been handed down through ancient generations."
As he spoke, Ser Jeremy gestured toward his banner: two crossed black warhammers on a blue field, cut by a white diagonal stripe.
Rhaegar was mildly intrigued. Ser Jeremy was indeed generous.
Rhaegar's reputation for appreciating ancient relics was already well known. Everyone had heard of his admiration for House Royce's bronze armor and House Corbray's Lady Forlorn in the Vale. These black warhammers were also worth a look. Many houses claimed histories stretching back thousands of years—but few truly possessed artifacts worthy of such boasts.
"I also maintain a residence in King's Landing. If Your Grace allows it, I will personally deliver the warhammers to your camp," Ser Jeremy pressed on.
Rhaegar considered it feasible. Nearby lords, such as those of Rosby and Maidenpool, all maintained mansions in the capital. Ser Jeremy could prove useful, especially if Dragon Towers were to be constructed in Maidenpool, which would require local cooperation.
"Support from the lords is only one part of it," Rhaegar advised. "The satisfaction of the smallfolk matters as well."
Ser Jeremy froze, then nodded with sudden realization. Though the Darklyn Family had fallen, they had ruled for generations and still possessed lingering supporters. Even a broken ship had nails left in it—public sentiment was also a form of power.
The army returned to King's Landing in triumph.
Peace was the best stage for influence. With Prince Rhaegar present, victories would follow one after another, and with them, popular support and public acclaim. No one challenged a proven victor.
Aegon the Conqueror and Jaehaerys the Conciliator were the two greatest kings House Targaryen had ever produced. King Daeron the Good was wise but lacked martial strength, while Daeron the Young Dragon was brilliant yet fragile. Many now quietly hoped for the rise of a third great Dragon King—a triumphant ruler forged through victory.
King Jaehaerys II personally led the lords and officials in praising the returning host, giving particular commendation to Ser Barristan Selmy and Prince Rhaegar, whom he openly named the true saviors of Maidenpool. One decisive victory was worth more than a thousand proclamations. The fate of the Darklyn Family would serve as a warning to any who harbored treacherous thoughts.
Yet the scene carried an undeniable awkwardness: a glorious grandson, and a father who had become the subject of mockery. The cause of the war itself had been laughable.
Many claimed Prince Aerys of Dragonstone was handsome and charming. Yet his son outshone him entirely. Prince Rhaegar embodied both steel and grace—learned and martial, harpist and warrior alike.
For once, King Jaehaerys II did not reprimand his son. Instead, he gently advised him to rest, which only deepened Prince Aerys's humiliation. At present, Aerys possessed no notable political achievements; instead, his loose tongue had spawned endless jokes, and the Maidenpool affair was merely the latest embarrassment.
Once the court dispersed, King Jaehaerys II summoned Rhaegar privately to the council chamber.
"Do not despise your father's shortcomings—and if you do, never show it," the king said gravely. "When your father ascends the Iron Throne, you will become Prince of Dragonstone. You must act in unity. Power divided invites vultures. Once cracks appear, those who seek to exploit them will multiply—just as it happened between King Aegon IV the Unworthy and his son, King Daeron II the Good."
Rhaegar was taken aback by his grandfather's words. The last true rupture between father and son within House Targaryen had indeed occurred during the reign of Aegon IV. After the deaths of the queen and the dragonriding prince, Aegon had even contemplated stripping Daeron of his inheritance and attacking Dorne. Though it never came to pass, it planted the seeds of the Blackfyre Rebellion.
Prince Aerys's recent blunders had reignited dangerous rumors throughout King's Landing—talk of rebuilding the Wall, forcing Braavos to kneel, and other grandiose fantasies unfit for a ruler. Combined with the Maidenpool debacle, what little prestige he possessed had eroded further.
Meanwhile, Prince Rhaegar's reputation had soared. Brave, decisive, victorious, and favored by fortune—young men admired him, and soldiers revered him.
King Jaehaerys II feared that estrangement between father and son might one day become irreversible.
Rhaegar remained silent.
In the realm of power, no one could truly escape such struggles.
Yet Rhaegar intended to ease his grandfather's worries. Influence flowed upward from the people. The greater the support he commanded, the more unassailable his will would become.
"Recently, there has been much talk of you," King Jaehaerys II continued. "The battle on the Valley Road, your insistence on restoring the Dragonpit, the bloodshed at Maidenpool. Not all of it is praise. Some accuse you of squandering royal wealth, of being too belligerent, too reckless. They whisper that you dislike the Red Keep, preferring military camps, and that you would become a cruel king. I have suppressed these rumors—for now. But one day, you must face them yourself."
The old king's voice grew heavier.
"I cannot protect you forever."
Rhaegar met his grandfather's gaze.
"Grandfather," he said calmly, "my risks are worth taking."
King Jaehaerys II's eyes widened slightly.
"We have dragons again."
Shock washed over the king's face.
To hatch dragons once more—such a miracle defied belief.
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