He was dreaming with a train and a plane. He was tired of sail boats and ride horses. They were too slow.
"Are you drinking again?" The sound of his mother's voice gave him a headache.
Jaehaerys looked around in a daze. Rhaella Targaryen watched him with compassion. She didn't seem to appreciate his condition, but she understood his feelings. But she misunderstood him; his alcoholism wasn't due to recent events.
Alcohol was an old friend. It was a necessary one if he wanted to stay sane.
"I've been challenged to a duel. You know who: Daemon," he whispered, referring to his nephew. The son of Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark. "A duel to the death. I want to give him the advantage," he said, stumbling to his feet. He ignored his mother's horrified expression.
He was obviously lying; he had no intention of dying. Nor did he plan to lose. His plans were as steady as the hand offering him support.
Slap!
His mother's hand colored his cheek red.
"I will not see my blood spilled over a stupid dispute," she said fiercely. She paused and thought. "You're going to fight a duel. By now, the lords must be arguing about it. You can't cancel it. I'll talk to Daemon and tell him you'll win. You'll spare his life," she said, gathering her skirts as she walked out of the room.
"He won't accept. He wants a duel to the death to prevent His Highness from arranging another marriage for Daenerys. If I die, he'll marry her. If he dies, he won't live with the shame of seeing the woman he loves warming my bed." His mother stopped her steps and looked at him in pain.
"Daenerys will be your wife. You will not call her a bed warmer as if she were a common whore," she finally said, educating him. "I will find a way to convince Daemon. I will call some maids to prepare you. There will be a welcome banquet for you, followed by a tournament, as you may have noticed. You have been away from the capital for a long time." She tenderly took his cheek. It was the same cheek he had slapped, and regret filled her violet eyes. "Your sister will be an incredible wife. She is an educated and beautiful girl."
"She's in love with another man," he replied bitterly. Even if he didn't want to cancel the wedding, it still hurt his pride to think of his future wife in love with someone else.
"A youthful love that will pass."
"It's not just a youthful love, and you know it. They grew up here together, while I grew up in the cold north. I'm a stranger who came to break up everything they had."
Rhaella turned away. Deep down, she knew Jaehaerys was a better match for her than Daemon, and she agreed with the marriage.
She couldn't understand her eldest son's reasoning. She knew he wasn't stupid and that there must be a hidden motive. Rhaegar feared that there would one day be a fight for the throne. Therefore, the best option would be to marry Daemon and Daenerys. That way, he would have no allies.
There was also Viserys, who, according to the king, had his eyes on the Iron Throne. Rhaella hoped she would never see her family's blood spilled over a piece of iron. But every day, Viserys looked more anxious.
Rhaegar chose Jaehaerys. He didn't say why, only that it was a good idea. Her younger son was the most peaceful and the last one she would see usurping a throne. She didn't question him because, deep down, she was happy with the outcome.
"She will fulfill her duty," she finally said. She knew the two would find respect, if not love, as husband and wife. "I wasn't in love with your father back then. My heart belonged to another man. I fulfilled my duty."
'Of all the examples, you chose the worst,' thought the prince.
"I don't want Daenerys to suffer as you did with Aerys," he said in an extremely soft voice. He did not refer to the old king as his father because he did not deserve such a title.
"You are not Aerys," she whispered, her voice nearly lost among the birdsong. "You will take care of her, promise?"
"Of course I will," he began, but his mother's eyes stopped him. "First, I will win the duel. You don't need to talk to him. I will win fairly."
"Jaehaerys. You don't understand. Daemon is a monster with a sword. You were raised among books, not swords." From the moment he set foot outside King's Landing, Rhaella had Varys watch over her son.
"The prince only set foot on the training grounds once. No one has ever seen him with a sword in his hand. He prefers ink and books over... anything else," the eunuch told her in one of his many reports.
Jaehaerys looked at her with a gentle smile. He seemed unconcerned by her words.
"I will spare his life. You need not worry." He had seen him fight. He was good, but not better than him. "People will gossip if the Queen Mother appears distressed during her son's welcome banquet." He dismissed her quickly.
"Jae—"
"Your Grace, we are here as you ordered." Two maids entered, waiting for orders. Rhaella simply looked at him. Her stubborn son began to undress. He was unmoved by any reaction from the maids.
"Clean him up and dress him. I have matters to attend to." She left in search of her only daughter. The daughter she loved most.
The maids prepared hot water, almost boiling it. They had to be careful not to get wet while scrubbing the prince's body. They looked at each other with knowing smiles as they took their time enjoying the sensation. The prince's body was muscular—something they would not expect from a scholar.
The prince's mind was not on the two maids in his room. He was living his life in this world. He had had a life before, a boring one filled with books. He had been a student. A failure. He had a basic knowledge of many subjects but never delved too deeply into any of them. He knew about chemistry, physics, and engineering, but he could not call himself a master of any of those disciplines.
He could recite books from his past life from memory, but his mind seemed to slow down when he tried to remember everyday things. It was almost as if he didn't need to know about it.
'Daemon,' he thought.
Everything in this world seemed familiar to him, yet it didn't. It was as if a cloud had been placed over all his memories.
'Wolves, deer, lions, dragons,' he thought. All the pieces were there, but they didn't fit together.
It felt like a simulation, and he was on the verge of entering and exiting the Matrix. He lived with a constant headache. The only way he could ease the pain was by numbing his brain. It was a torturous childhood. Only when he grew up was he able to drown it in alcohol. He had tried poppy milk, but he stopped because he was afraid of becoming addicted.
His life in this world was princely. He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. In his early months, he heard whispers of war. Apparently, his older brother wasn't the brightest. Taking a second wife was a stupid idea. He would have understood if there had been dragons flying around, but not like that.
Taking her without the consent of her Lord Father, the guardian of the North, was even stupider.
Honestly, the Targaryens are only still on the throne thanks to Tywin Lannister.
It was a debt he didn't like to owe. He had interacted with the lion a few times; it was in Essos, and they were both using other hands. The old lion tried to stick his hands in Jaehaerys' business.
Rhaegar did everything he could to keep the kingdom together, and one of his actions directly affected Jaehaerys.
On his eighth name day, he traveled north to be raised. He didn't have the chance to say goodbye to his grandmother or his niece, Rhaenys, who was his age. A servant informed him of the trip, and a knight of the guard and a small group escorted him north.
Eddard Stark was a cold and direct man.
He was never rude, but rather, he was courteous in all his interactions. He taught him enough, but they never formed a true bond. The man despised him and his family.
This is why he felt no remorse when he stole his daughter's virginity.
"Sansa," he whispered with a hint of nostalgia.
The girl must be devastated by his impending marriage. For a long time, she believed they would marry. Jaehaerys liked the idea. She was kind and dreamy, beautiful and delicate like a flower. He could see that she truly loved him. Unlike the ladies from his childhood in the red fortress, she wasn't cunning. She would never betray him.
She would never love another man.
At first, she was bland and a bit boring, but she became quite talkative when he was inside her. Over time, she loosened up a bit. She liked to ride horses and talk about tournaments and legendary knights. She was naive. It was in her innocence that he found such pure love.
'Maybe I shouldn't have done that,' he thought. The girl was genuine, and at the beginning, he wanted to do something to go against her father. It was after that that he began to like her. 'Will Rhaegar call off the wedding with Daenerys if we talk?' He doubted it. Besides, he wasn't sure if he would give him the castle he promised if he did. Still, he would prefer not to have problems with a swordsman known throughout the continent as Barristan the Bold equal.
"What can you say about Daemon?" he asked the two maids, who seemed eager to offer their services.
"He's the reborn rogue prince," one of them said, enthusiastically washing his arms.
"People whisper about whether he's a red dragon or a black dragon," said the other, lowering her head when the prince turned to look at her.
"Are you one of those who whisper?" Any insult to the House of the Dragon was an insult to him. His plans depended on his family's reign. The last thing he wanted was another dance. Daemon had even taken the name of the first Blackfyre pretender. History seemed to be repeating itself with Daenerys' hand being denied to him and married to another man.
"No, my lord, my prince! I only repeated what I've heard," she said. He ignored her slip as he ran a hand through the maid's hair.
"There are some things that are better not repeated," he said, feeling her tremble under his touch. His body was hot from the water and hurt her a little sore.
He still wasn't used to it since his arrival at KingsLanding. People seemed to fear the royal family. In the north, contempt for dragons was common.
Both women began to hurry. They no longer seemed as happy while washing his body.
'The Rogue Prince, eh?'