275 AC (After the Conquest), Harrenhal.
Dragons circled in the sky, and knights galloped across Gods Eye Lake. Several consecutive years of winter had turned the lake into a massive, exceptionally solid, azure sheet of ice—Westeros's last tear.
Rhaegar and Roberta rode side-by-side; the Doe's horsemanship was also superb! Dragon and Doe, silver hair and black hair, violet eyes and blue eyes, youth and maiden. Rhaegar wore his colors, silver and black, topped with the golden Valyrian crown of Orion the Dragon King, which made him appear even more exceptionally handsome. Roberta's family, House Baratheon, wore gold and black. Her beautiful charcoal-black hair was adorned with a jeweled stag hair clip, and her blue eyes were as clear as Gods Eye Lake. Roberta's smile was gentle and sweet; the maiden accessorized her golden cloak with the stag, featuring the leaping crowned stag.
"It must be cold!" Rhaegar asked Roberta. The northern cold night kills. Harrenhal is centrally located, north of King's Landing and Storm's End, and with the massive ice sheet of Gods Eye Lake, the temperature was even colder.
"It's alright!" Roberta smiled. "I still have to protect you, like Visenya protected Aegon. I heard those Warlocks want to assassinate you! And those terrifying objects, those dead things in the storm." Rhaegar actually didn't want the Doe to come to Harrenhal, as the conditions were quite harsh. The men needed to be ready at any moment to reinforce the North, which would be an even tougher fight. She was a strong and opinionated rose; the Doe's horsemanship and swordsmanship were no less than those of a first-rate warrior. But Roberta was also an intelligent girl; she understood the flow of power. The great war was about to begin. How could Rhaegar's great military achievements not attract shadows and spies? This time, the Warlocks of Qarth were as insidious as rats, but it definitely wouldn't be the last time.
"If Lady Roberta is here to protect me, then I feel perfectly safe. As for the Warlocks of Qarth, they are just rats in a gutter." Rhaegar smiled. Rhaegar was very grateful for the Doe's willingness to follow him. The Doe was the undisputed leader among the Baratheon siblings; after all, she was the elder sister, and her younger brothers both loved and feared her. Even though Westeros typically follows the system of primogeniture, some noble women still held influence. After the Dance of the Dragons, it was largely women who mended the wounds of the realm after their husbands and fathers died. Rhaegar wondered how Shireen was doing now, and his thoughts drifted to the Archon of Tyrosh.
"Hurry up, Stannis! I bet if you saw a White Walker, you'd be shaking in your boots!" Robert's characteristic hearty laugh followed close behind Rhaegar and his sister. In his youth, Robert truly was a handsome man: tall, slender limbs, broad shoulders, smooth straight charcoal-black hair, deep blue eyes, and a hearty smile.
"I know!" Stannis pursed his lips and urged his horse faster. Stannis was considered the less attractive Baratheon. He had a mouth seemingly born for frowning, scowling, and stern pronouncements—it was pale, thin, and tight. Stannis rarely smiled and seldom drank. Most of the time, he felt he lived the typical life of a second son, dwelling in the shadow of his older siblings. His older brother would inherit Storm's End, and his elder sister was destined to be Queen, the Rose of Westeros. As for himself, his fate was simply to never measure up to them in anything.
"Everyone, let's take a break!" Although Rhaegar was still full of energy, the horses were tired. Everyone stopped at the shore of Gods Eye Lake, looking at the beautiful large lake while the attendants tethered the horses. Besides riding, they also had a barbecue by Gods Eye Lake. The grill was already set up. Today they would feast on luxurious roasted bison, fragrant bread, and extravagant wines: Dornish summer red and Arbor gold.
Everyone gathered, finding their spots as bonfires, tables, and chairs were set up. Beautiful tablecloths were spread, bearing Rhaegar's three silver dragon sigil. Many banners fluttered in the wind, symbolizing the warriors of various great houses: silver dragon, stag, falcon, lion, bat, sunspear, blooming rose, and so on.
"This is truly a gathering of heroes!" Rhaegar looked around. Most of those present were noble youths from the Seven Kingdoms, all heading north to support the Night's Watch and House Stark. Roberta, as a female companion, seemed slightly out of place, but no one voiced any objection—she was the Prince's companion, and everyone understood. Rhaegar saw the three Baratheon siblings, Mace of House Tyrell, Rennal of House Arryn, and several brothers from Harrenhal's House Whent. There were also several highborn attendants of Rhaegar. Ser Barristan had already returned from Farwinter with some of the men. Even from distant Dorne, Prince Lewyn had brought knights from thousands of miles away to lend support! For the heirs of these great nobles, even if they were going into battle, their safety had to be protected, and fortunately, they were all accompanied by large contingents of knights guarding their young masters: the rose house's green-cloaked spearmen and the blue knights of the Vale.
Regarding the journey north to the Wall to fight the Tide of Death, the Iron Throne had issued a call, not mandatory conscription; otherwise, such an endeavor in the depth of winter would surely lead to a mutiny. Only sons or those too old or frail to withstand the severe northern cold were advised not to participate. Moreover, the North's resources genuinely had limited carrying capacity for personnel. Despite this, inspired by the spirit of chivalry, a large number of warriors were still willing to head north to support the Wall. Rhaegar could only select the best of the best, starting the screening process here at Harrenhal. Some who came were told not to fight but to focus on road construction. Building roads was better than fighting in colder regions, and it also helped filter out knights who merely came to freeload or run away.
"Damn it, this weather is awful!" Robert exclaimed bluntly after sitting down.
"After a long winter comes a long summer. Our next summer will be much better than now!" Mace said cheerfully, wearing his large green velvet—the traditional color of Highgarden.
"The prerequisite is that we survive this winter and defeat those dead things!" Stannis said somewhat pessimistically.
"Look at you, Stannis, you're always so gloomy!" Robert complained to Stannis. Rhaegar felt that, gathered here, besides Mace the Fat Rose, they had both an optimistic warrior and a pessimistic warrior!
"Robert!" Roberta glared at Robert. She suspected that Stannis's dullness was partly due to Robert's constant teasing. Robert immediately dared not speak again; he was somewhat afraid of his elder sister, who was the Storm and the Doe. Roberta was dissatisfied with both of them: Robert was a drunkard who chased women, and Stannis was so stiff and dry as to be tasteless, unable to win the affection of maidens or warriors. These two younger brothers, truly... Amidst the laughter, bread, fine wine, roasted lamb, roasted fish, roasted chicken, and other dishes were served first. The most conspicuous item was the wine. Rhaegar's attendants brought various fine wines: sweet dry red wine from the Reach, Arbor gold, Dornish summer red, white Pentos amber wine, and green Myr mead. They even saw more legendary wines from the East, obtained from Qarth, the Golden Dynasty, and Asshai.
"Everyone, you've traveled a long way, thank you for your effort! I toast you all!" Rhaegar said, holding Roberta's hand and smiling at the crowd. He was immensely grateful that so many people had gathered for a war that would decide the fate of humanity. Roberta smiled; she had the sweetest smile in the world at that moment.
Everyone raised their glasses together, many smiling faces, many clinking bottles, cherishing the present moment, for the battle was about to begin. They prayed for the King's health and blessed the war for victory.
"This wine is really something!" Robert's eyes were glued to the sight. The heirs of House Whent also gazed at the dazzling array of fine wines; everyone present knew their value. These wines were costly, representing wealth and power that spanned both sides of the Narrow Sea. The Triarchy, and even the Qartheen, needed to appease the True Dragon. They knew Rhaegar was currently rich enough to rival a nation, but no one could estimate exactly how much money he possessed. In previous wars, Rhaegar had acquired substantial reparations, as well as tribute fees from great merchants and city-states across the Narrow Sea. Rhaegar hadn't even mentioned possessing the Great Valyrian Treasury yet, or they would truly die of envy.
"Let us drain this cup, and when we return victorious, I will treat you to the finest wines!" Rhaegar declared grandly. He didn't love drinking—he preferred healthy warm water—but in this situation, a few cups were necessary.
"It's a promise then! I'm going to smash a few White Walkers, come back with the honor of victory, and then get roaring drunk in King's Landing, right here with the Prince! Haha!" Robert laughed heartily, full of heroic spirit. Like the Laughing Storm, he could eat, drink, and fight. "I'll crush those sons of bitches, the White Walkers, with my warhammer!" Robert thumped his chest.
"Cheers!" "Cheers!" The sound of clinking glasses rang out, mingling with the aroma of wine, meat, and bread.
"Gentlemen, when fighting the dead things, do not rely on brute courage. They are not living people and feel no pain. What we need are thick clothes, dragonglass, and fire. I have now imported a large number of Myr triple-shot crossbows from across the Narrow Sea; this is the best guarantee of our victory!" Rhaegar told the warriors. Everyone's child was precious, and even to achieve victory, he did not want to see his warriors die needlessly.
"The Prince speaks confidently and clearly; I am reassured. After all, no soldier who follows the victorious Rhaegar has ever been said to lose!" Prince Lewyn also smiled. A commander's composure is contagious. Seeing the Prince so steady and calm, treating the great enemy as if they were insignificant, instilled cheerfulness in the soldiers.
"Ser Barristan has also seen Farwinter and has lectured the soldiers here at the Harrenhal base camp about the extreme cold!" Rhaegar gestured to Ser Barristan.
"Indeed!" Barristan spoke eloquently, "The northern winter is our greatest enemy. Therefore, even if the soldiers go north to support, they need thick clothing and supplies, as the North's population capacity is limited."
"That's true, cold is a great enemy! The dead things feel nothing, but our warriors do!" Prince Lewyn nodded. Dornishmen are certainly the most resistant to the cold.
"With sufficient food and troops, our journey north will be much easier!" Rhaegar told everyone. "We must ensure the Kingsroad heading north can transport supplies as efficiently as possible!"
..."I give this to you, you are the most beautiful!" Rhaegar gave Roberta the silver, ruby-inlaid steel circlet he used to wear most often.
"I give this to you!" Roberta presented Rhaegar with a cloak she had personally embroidered, featuring a fire-breathing silver dragon.
The two exchanged gifts, both treasuring them deeply.
"Beautiful Lady, Queen of Love and Beauty, may I invite you to dance?" Rhaegar extended his hand.
"It would be my honor!" Roberta laughed, her azure eyes incredibly beautiful, mirroring the blue Gods Eye Lake. She was the Queen of Love and Beauty; her smile held playfulness, sweetness, pride, and confidence—the most beautiful maiden in Westeros.
On the blue surface of the lake, the Lovers of Gods Eye Lake began to dance.
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