GoT/ASOIAF: The Prince of Scrolls Chapter 35. Broken

He didn't know her reasons for saying that. So he decided to play it safe. The king could have sent her to test his ttle.

"My brother is the king," he said.

"He's mad," her eyes looked at the weirwood's. The one in King's Landing had been cut down, and only the stump remained. "Mad, but not stupid. He knows he doesn't have absolute power; he learned that from his father." That hatred was mixed with a horrible terror.

"You speak of the king," he reminded her.

"Another mad king," she spat, composing herself in an instant, looking at the knights from afar. "You know what will happen if he gets a dragon?" she asked.

"The Targaryen dynasty will rule for years," he replied, not believing that his brother was an evil ruler. He was a terrible relative, yes; he may have been a bastard, but he managed to keep the seven kingdoms united—even the Iron Islands. Unlike in the canon, they did not rebel here.

That didn't an Jaehaerys planned to give him the dragons.

"Westeros will burn," she corrected. "The witch at his side. She gossips in his ear. She asks him for sacrifices," she whispered. "He disagrees, not wholly. He fears the reaction of the lords. But so prisoners have disappeared, and my son, he..." Her voice broke.

"Daemon?" he asked, not so worried. But he couldn't tell a woman that he didn't care much if her son died.

"No. His na was Daeron. He was small, with dark hair and a long face. He was beautiful," she said.

He closed his eyes for a mont while rembering.

"I rember him. The news reached the north. He was stillborn," he said. It had saddened him when he heard the news in the north. "A year before Visenya."

"He wasn't stillborn. He was murdered at birth," she struggled not to sob. She looked up at the sky, preventing the tears from falling from her eyes.

"Murdered?" He knew her brother was no saint. He was an, with a superiority complex. When he accused Viserys, he had hoped they would send him to the Wall. If what Lyanna said was true, Viserys would have died without his intervention.

"Burned alive. Right in front of ," her eyes beca distant as if she could see him right now. "He cried, oh, his lungs were so strong. The flas took him away. I look at his clothes burning, his skin lting." She shook her head and let out a dry laugh. "Rhaegar said it was necessary. Necessary to kill his own son."

"Why?" Jaehaerys had a guess: 'The blood of kings is powerful.'

"Rhaegar didn't need more sons," she whispered. A gust of wind hit them. "He needed a daughter. A Visenya. The red whore told him I wouldn't give him a boy, but he needed ice. So she told him if he sacrificed my son-," her voice broke "if he did it, Rhllor would give him his Visenya. And he would have his three conquerors."

Jaehaerys was silent. All her words seed real; there was a hatred in her voice that was real. Genuine. She must be an incredible actress or a broken mother. He looked at the weirwood.

"I'm sorry," he rembered Stannis sacrificing his daughter. It was only ntioned in the TV show, but they said he might do it in the books as well. "Rhllor is not welco at Harrenhal. I only allowed the red whore," he repeated the nickna she had given her, "to enter because she was accompanying the king."

"And you think she'll stay that way if my husband gets dragons?" she said. "No, he will lt your walls with fire if she has to. Maybe they'll sacrifice you, your wife, or your children," she said, feeling angry. But what she said was true. If Rhaegar killed his own son, what would stop him from killing his brother?

"You think if I intended to hand over the dragons, I would have kept them hidden for four moons?" he said. She said nothing, believing that he was the one who had warned the king.

"You didn't warn him," she said, opening her eyes.

"No. The dragons were seen. The king found out and ca," he said.

"How do you plan to keep them out of his hands? I tried to poison him, you know?" she said. "It didn't work. One of the n died. But not the king. I know the king's cup contained poison. I added it myself," she confessed.

"How long ago was that?" asked the prince. "If you tried to murder the king, how are you still alive?"

"Yesterday," she laughed. "I know I'll die soon on my way to that shithole of King's Landing. Or once I get there," she didn't seem concerned about her death.

"Why don't you go north?" he asked. "A ship is leaving tomorrow from the small town. You could escape on it." He wouldn't risk his life for her, but he could arrange sothing that didn't involve him.

"I'm hated in the north. It was my kidnapping that started the war. So many deaths," she whispered. "The Stag Rebellion. They call it. It should be the War for Lyanna's Cunt," she joked. She was broken, he could tell.

"Kidnapping?" he ignored her joke. "Didn't you run away together?" His throat felt dry.

"No. He took , tried to seduce , and almost succeeded. If he were a single man, I would have been with him a thousand tis." She comnted without sha.

"Was it because of Elia that you didn't want him?"

"He was charming, you know? Almost as handso as you," she looked at his face. "His face always looked lancholy. Sad. But over ti, I learned it was just boredom." Her gray eyes were empty.

"So he—"

"He stole . He often joked that wildings did that to get wives," she didn't seem amused at all. "He said I would feel more northern that way," she added.

"That's cruel." The information about the savages' traditions likely ca from Aemon.

"It is," she nodded. "He locked in a tower and made carry his child. I refused, I begged him, but he wouldn't listen. I still rember the first ti, so much blood, such intense pain," she lowered her head.

"I felt dirty, horrible, ugly. He didn't care about . He left his seed inside until I stopped having my moon blood," she turned her back on the knights who followed her. She began to sob slowly.

"My brother—" He didn't know what to say. Comfort her? Hug her? He wasn't good at those things.

"I wanted to resist, to fight. But how could I, at 14, fight against an adult and 3 knights?" It seed that the title ant nothing to her. "Then I tried to kill myself," she licked her lips, the salty taste stopping her for a second. "He tied to the bed, left my legs open. I was a toy for his use," her voice was bitter. "He let go when he confird I was pregnant. He knew I wouldn't try to kill myself. Not with my child inside ."

"Daemon," was all he could say. He was speechless. "I'm sorry," he said, not knowing why he apologized; he hadn't hurt her.

"Then he made tell everyone that we were in love. I rember Ned looking at with those betrayed eyes." She felt bad reliving that mont. "If you want them to live, do it," she said, changing her voice. "That's what he told ," she nodded.

"And you carried the hatred of the North. " His opinion of her was terrible, a maiden in love for whom thousands died.

"I did it and I would do it again. I love my brothers. I love my children. I should thank you for sending Daemon to the north. I don't know how long it would have taken for him to be sacrificed," she held his hands.

"If you die, Daemon could start a war if he finds out who killed you," he told her. He was afraid of that, actually.

"That's why I'll kill myself," she smiled. She seed happy to long for death.

"Visenya will be an orphan," he said, and her expression changed completely. Daemon was already a grown man, but his youngest daughter was still a child.

"That doesn't change anything... she's strong, she always has been," she consoled herself.

"As strong as you have been," he said, and she collapsed.

He felt her tremble in his arms as he instinctively wrapped his arms around her. The queen wept. She shed tears for her eldest son, whom she would never see again. For her murdered son, whose eyes she had never even seen. For her youngest daughter, whom she would never see grow into a woman.

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Author: Yes, I chose to go with that theory...