Mihawk POV
The Red Keep
282 AC
"My prince, we haven't seen each other in years, and the first thing you ask is if I want to seduce your wife? Here? In front of her children and handmaidens? Come now. Princess Elia is beautiful, but not so much that I would become a fool who covets a dragon's mate." I specifically added that last line; from my experience with the Targaryens, they are profoundly vain. Even though the prince likes to hide it behind a veneer of civility, the truth is something I knew long before I came into this world, back when I was just a reader scouring the internet for information on this beautiful world created by Martin.
Rhaegar is his father's son.
Rhaegar looked at the handmaidens in the room with a silent question, only relenting when he saw subtle shakes from all their heads. He finally calmed down and plastered his fake smile back on his face.
"I am sorry, my friend. I don't know what came over me," he said apologetically, but I wasn't fooled for a second. Even his act of jealousy for Elia was a performance. Rhaegar is a functioning sociopath. He only truly cares for himself.
"Come, I want to show you something," Rhaegar commanded as he walked out of the room, shadowed by Arthur Dayne. I turned my head toward Princess Elia Martell and silently mouthed "sorry" before following him.
We walked in silence until we reached a seemingly abandoned part of the Red Keep, with rats sporadically running about and an infestation of spiders, their cobwebs clinging to every corner.
"Lord Mihawk. You are of the North and have heard stories about the Others, right?" Rhaegar asked in a curiously leading tone, opening a door to a room that stood in stark contrast to the squalor outside.
Confusion ran through me. Why was Rhaegar bringing me here to tell me about his prophecy of the three heads of the dragon? I already know about it from my past life, and it will not go how he thinks.
There are no definite answers as to who the prince that was promised is. Some think it's Jon Snow, while others think it's Daenerys. I am solidly in the camp of Daenerys for one reason only: she is alive and brought back dragons. Jon Snow was a bastard, regardless of whether Rhaegar and Lyanna supposedly married in front of a weirwood tree. It means little, as taking a second wife is a complicated affair in Westeros, especially for a prince. The fact that it was done in secret makes the argument for Jon Snow being a secret prince invalid. At best, he would be a Blackfyre—a Targaryen bastard, not a prince.
While Daenerys is a certified princess of the realm, she brought back dragons. As Maester Aemon said, "There is no word for princess in Valyrian. 'Prince' is a gender-neutral term. The answer was staring us in the face all this time."
This gives me even more reason to let the main portions of the future play out, with some slight variations. I would never let Elia and her children die. If by chance they fall to the Lannisters… I'll bring down two meteors on Casterly Rock and Tywin's army, ending his bloodline in tribute to my friend. But that is a worst-case scenario. It would also expose my true strength prematurely, giving my enemies information I would rather they not have.
"Rhaegar… prophecy is unreliable at best, especially one as old as this. From what I understand, this prophecy has been known by House Targaryen for centuries," I said, locking eyes with him and Arthur so they could see my seriousness. "That means it has been interpreted wrong by many of you, as the Long Night is still not here. 'Prince' is a gender-neutral term in Valyrian, so it can easily be a girl. And last but not least, you can't force a prophecy. If it is a true prophecy, it will happen regardless of whether you work towards it. So stop this."
"You need to focus, Rhaegar. There are more important things you should be doing right now. Aerys is running your dynasty into the ground, making enemies of lords left and right, burning smallfolk for petty crimes or even no crimes at all—ones he made up in his head. He is raping your mother, Rhaegar! The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms is being raped every single day, and here you are, obsessing over prophecies when you should be planning a peaceful usurpation and regaining goodwill for your house. You have a wife, Rhaegar! You have children! Do this for them, if not for the realm!" I was screaming angrily at this cunt of a prince. I had thought that with all that was going on, he would be serious about usurping his father and stopping the kingdom's spiral.
Different Lord Paramounts are allied together in a coalition bloc—the Baratheons, Tullys, Arryns, and Starks. The Lannisters were insulted by the king and loathe the royal family. The Greyjoys do not care and are barely part of the Seven Kingdoms. Their only ally is the Martells, and that is a problem, as they are hated by most of the realm as treacherous. Even they are barely tolerating the Targaryens. Dorne is fierce and excels at defensive warfare in their deserts, but outside of it, they do not have as many men as the Tyrells or Lannisters. They are also ridiculed by Aerys, their supposed ally, who went as far as to call Elia's blood in their child, Rhaenys, "tainted."
Rhaegar has a mountain of problems, and many look to him to restore order. He gains respect for being an alternative to the train wreck that is Aerys, and here he is, twiddling his thumbs and playing with prophecies.
"My friend, I understand what you are saying, and you are correct in your beliefs. Aerys must be deposed, but it is not so easy. Being king is my destiny, but so is my responsibility as the Promised Prince. This prophecy is more important, as it determines the fate of the living. I have already taken measures to gain support to depose my father," Rhaegar said with his signature melancholy smile, the one that makes people feel like children being scolded.
"Then you'd better do it quickly, Rhaegar. Do not expect help from me when everything goes tits up because of your inaction," I said, looking him dead in the eye with all the seriousness I could muster.
"Watch your tongue, cur. You speak to a prince of the blood," Arthur said, unsheathing Dawn and looking at me with contempt and vitriol.
"You have your tongue so deep up his ass, Dayne. That must be why you are always spewing shit," I retorted, unsheathing Yoru and falling into a battle-ready stance, ready for him to fuck around and find out.
"Enough! Lower your weapons!" Rhaegar commanded. Arthur swiftly returned Dawn to its scabbard, but I stood firm, my blade still ready.
I realized something in that moment. What gave this weakling the idea he could command me? In this world, might makes right. I have ascended to demigodhood. I have awakened the Gravity Fruit, making me a true master of gravity. I am immortal.
Am I still human, or something more? If so, why should this delusional fool, who was only lucky enough to be born from the right womb, presume to hold power over me?
Yes.
"You are right. This is enough," I said.
I fully unleashed a blast of Conqueror's Haki, the wave of sheer willpower knocking out Rhaegar and most of the occupants of the Red Keep. Through my Observation Haki, I sensed the only ones still standing: Arthur Dayne, Elia Martell, Gerold Hightower, Barristan Selmy, and, to my surprise, Lord Aethan Velaryon of Driftmark, a close friend of Aerys since the days of the Ninepenny Kings.
"What have you done?! This is treason!" Arthur shouted, quickly drawing his blade and standing protectively over Rhaegar's unconscious form.
I could end this right now. Stop the coming war caused by this idiot and his father. All I need is one chance.
But the truth is, I don't care. I don't care enough about the nobility. I can't even bother to justify it by saying I am doing it to save the smallfolk from suffering. I only care about my lands and enriching myself.
"Tell Rhaegar that he and his family should not count on my help in any wars to come without laying a significant price for my aid. Leave me alone, and I won't turn King's Landing into a crater."
I slashed the air, and an Air Door opened. I walked through, a final warning to Arthur—a demonstration that I could come and go as I pleased. If they came for me, they had best not miss.
Behind me, the door closed on the face of a truly distraught Arthur Dayne, who was left cradling Rhaegar, trying to wake him.