The Heir of the Dragon: A Rhaenyra Targaryen Quest

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You strode through the halls of New Castle, past rusted swords and splintered shields from ancient battles now barely even a memory, past great paintings of sharks prowling through blue-green ocean and great marble statues of Mermen, and past guards wielding silver Tridents instead of spears, until eventually, you reached the castle's solar where Lord Manderly and his son awaited you.

Your uncle once remarked there were only two kinds of Manderlys. Some of the finest knights the seven kingdoms had produced, or the fattest lords the realm had ever seen. Medrick certainly fit the image of the former. Tall, dark haired, broad shoulders and thick muscles, but a charming smile across his youthful features. Though his father did not fit the latter. Stout maybe. Lord Manderly had something of a potbelly, but you'd seen much bigger lords and ladies at court over the years.

"Princess Rhaenyra, what a pleasure!" Lord Desmond Manderly greeted warmly as you approached. "It is an honor to have you here in my castle."

"Princess, it is an honor to make your ac quittance," Medrick bowed. "Please. Make yourself at home."

"Thank you both," you replied. "I must say your castle and your city are a breath taking sight to behold."

"Thank you princess, you are too kind," Desmond said with a kind smile. "I must say your journey so far has been quite memorable to read about."

"Really?" you grew a touch nervous. "I hope I made a good impression."

"Of course!" Lord Manderly assured you loudly. "Beating Ser Harwin Strong in a fight? While I may scoff at the idea that a boy from the Riverlands could really be that much of a knight, that is no small feat for someone your age. And the Eyrie! Even Lord Stark was impressed by that."

"Your liege has spoken of me?" you questioned. The Starks generally kept to themselves. They were well regarded for sure, but few saw much of them in the south unless it was a very important event.

"Indeed. He wrote to me a week ago, mentioning how he approved of how you handled that cur," Lord Manderly remarked. "My liege lords have always stuck to the ancient ways. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword and all that. Or woman in your case. Personally, I say executioners are there for a reason, but sometimes you need to take matters into your own hand."

"How that man spoke to you was utterly abhorrent, Princess," Medrick said carefully.

"Thank you," you nodded.

"Come sit," Lord Desmond gestured to a cushioned chair next to his table. "It's been too long since White Harbor hosted a dragon."

You sat down, your back stiff as you kept your hands folded in front of you. You could feel an uncomfortable lightness in your stomach. Maybe it was the thought of the coming tourney, maybe it was the prospect that they might try and push you into a marriage, but something had you on edge.

"On that note, Princess," Medrick added. "We have been feeding your dragon as per your instructions. They have behaved quiet well since they arrived, though they do seem a touch restless"

"I'm not surprised," you smiled slightly, "Syrax is very protective of me and doesn't like being apart for long."

"Ahh, loyalty. Always something to be commended," Lord Manderly remarked. "No matter what form it comes in. Now princess, I must ask, how fares the king? How is your father doing these days?"

"Well," you said on instinct. "He is doing quite well, his new wife is expecting a child any week now."

In truth you weren't sure how he was doing. It had been months since you saw the man and the last time you did, he had been rather miserable. You would definitely have to ask Lord Beesbury when you had the chance.

"Excellent," Lord Manderly nodded, a hint of seriousness in his ton., "I hope there is no bad blood between our two houses. I did speak quite passionately in favor of Princess Rhaenys at the Great Council."

"I've never heard my father speak ill of you, not even once," you assured him. "My father has never held grudges against anyone who supported our cousin at the council."

"Rather interesting how everything worked out in the end," Lord Manderly had a bemused expression on his face as he looked at you, earning him a scornful look from his son.

"Yes, I suppose it is," you said thoughtfully. You could only imagine the old king would be quite befuddled to see that you where heir to the Iron Throne. "Now, your note mentioned you wanted to speak to me about some matter. What did you wish to discuss?"

Lord Manderly scratched his chin for a moment.

"The last time a dragon was here," he said, still energetic but lacking the humor his voice had previously been filled with. "Your great-grandfather and mine spoke of redress. Of fixing ancient wrongs. The king spoke of ending our exile and even arranged a marriage between our two families but alas, Princess Viserra died and nothing ever became of that promise."

You felt your back grow stiffer. Already talk of marriage. Though the mention of ending their exile caught your attention.

"You seek a return to the Reach?" you questioned. "But your family left centuries ago."

"Would you not return to Valyria if you could do so?" he asked.

"I...suppose I would at least want to visit," you remarked after some thought. "If only to see what it's like."

You would always stand apart from most people in Westeros, even the lords and ladies. You doubted you would have found the ancient Freehold much of a home though. The ancient texts were interesting, but they also spoke of dark and terrible things, along with slavery and literal cutthroat politics.

"I have no desire to abandon White Harbor," Lord Manderly admitted. "My family are Stark men until the end of times and these shores may be cold, but they are mine. My family built this city and I would not stand to see it passed to another. But I have more than one son, and my family has been slighted for far too long. Tell me, princess, are you familiar with house Peake?"

"Vaguely," you voice was uncertain as you wracked your brain for various houses. "They're in the Reach, are they not?"

"Correct," Lord Manderly said darkly. "A wretched lot. Always have been. For centuries now they have squatted on my family's ancestral lands, claiming Dunstonbury castle as their own, and for centuries they have mocked us in our exile. Even now, their heir, some oaf named Unwin, has arrived in my city, seeking to humiliate us by earning glory in my son's Tourney."

"I'm not entirely sure what you want me to do here," you said a bit bewildered. "I can't return your castle to you."

"No," Lord Manderly agreed, "but your father can. The king is a good man with a good heart and he's friends with the Hightowers. When you return to King's Landing, please bring this issue to your father. If your family can return Dunstonbury to my family, our debt to you and yours would be as great as our debt to the Starks."

That was no small claim. The Manderlys may have been southerners forced into the harsh North, but they were deeply loyal to the Starks. Perhaps no house was more loyal to their lieges than them. If you did this, you would have the near absolute allegiance of a powerful house. And probably the ire of several in the Reach as well.

"I-" you began.

"I don't need your promise right now. I know nothing can be promised at this time," Lord Manderly assured you, "but just keep my words in mind when you returned home."

"Okay then. I'll think on it then," you said noncommitally.

"Wonderful," Lord Manderly grinned. "Now, I know I am getting greedy here and I'm certain the odds are low you would even consider my offer but I would be remiss if I did not try."

Oh, no.

"Now, princess, you are ten and six years old correct?" Lord Manderly asked as you could see his son grow visibly nervous.

"Yes," you answered hesitantly.

"Have you given much thought to marriage?" he pressed.

"Not much," you admitted, even more hesitantly.

Medrick stepped forward and then got on one knee.

Oh. No.

"My Princess, it would do me a great honor if you would considering joining our two houses together," Ser Medrick said in a clearly practiced speech. "Let me be the sword at your side, protect you from all who would do you harm and give counsel when you have need of it. I will not seek to rule through you, but beside you, if you would take me as your consort."

You sat there, frozen, almost petrified with fear at the sight of the man before you. Every part of your body wanted to run away right now, perhaps screaming as you did so for good measure.

"I am willing to bet that most lords are sending their marriage offers to your father, treating you like any other princess that had come before you," Desmond Manderly spoke, a cool expression on his face. "They forget you are heir. It felt only right we should make this offer to you directly."

"My Princess, my family and I have much we could offer you," Medrick said, his voice nearly cracking from nerves. "Armies. Land. Wealth to rival many of the great houses."

"My son is a strong knight, and true," Lord Manderly added. "You would be hard pressed to find a more dutiful husband."

"You ask a lot of house Targaryen," you said hesitantly as your eyes snapped back towards the lord.

"I know. I do apologize for how I must come across," Desmond Manderly said with just a hint of sheepishness, "but I could not let your visit pass without reminding your family of the old king's promise. And what better chance would we have for this proposal?"

You still wanted to scream and run away, but you forced yourself to be more diplomatic. You couldn't accept right away, you had no intention of doing so and that wasn't how things were done. Details had to be worked out before you could even go to your father. And that would have to wait until after the Tourney. But you hated the very idea of doing even that much.

You could offer to take Ser Medrick along with you for the rest of the Progress. Get to know the man better before you said yes. See if Alicent liked him, and if you could make things work with her while married to this man...

You could also just refuse as you so desperately wanted to right now.

How Do you react to Lord Manderly's Proposal?

[] [Manderly] Offer to discuss it more in detail after the Tourney

[] [Manderly] Request Ser Medrick accompany you on your Progress before making a decision

[] [Manderly] Refuse

[] [Manderly] Write-in (Subject to QM's Approval

---

You found Lord Beesbury in a small manse not far from the tourney grounds.

"Princess!" he said as he eagerly shook your hand. "What a treasure it is to see you. How have you been?"

The handshake took you by surprise, but you returned it all the same.

"I have been well," you replied with a smile as he released his hand. "Though I must admit I prefer traveling on dragonback to ship travel."

"I imagine few things could compare to that," Beesbury nodded.

"What brings you to White Harbor?" you inquired. "We are quite far from the capital."

"Aye, that we are," Lord Beesbury agreed, "but it has been too long since I've seen a good tourney and it seemed easier to travel here then wait for the one in Highgarden. This allows me to the avoid the Florents as well. Never much cared for them."

People always remarked on how much the Blackwoods and Brackens squabbled, but sometimes it seemed like the Reach houses bickered just as much.

"How is my father, if may ask?" You had been pondering his health ever since your meeting with Lord Manderly.

"Oh he's fine," Lord Beesbury said reassuringly. "The Grand Maester insists the latest round of treatments are working."

Which means he was still undergoing treatment for a problem he now had for years. That was rather distressing to hear. Hopefully Lord Beesbury was right.

"The Queen is doing fine as well," he added. "Though we have seen little of her as of late. The maesters say the baby will come soon. Well, babies. They are predicting twins. I imagine your father will send for you before you leave the North."

"Hmm, that's good to hear," you said evenly, a forced smile across your face. You trusted Lord Beesbury but you didn't want anyone knowing just how many doubts and worries you had about Joanna's child, or children as it were.

"Though, both would probably be fairing better if the Small Council could find some accord," Beesbury sighed.

"Oh?" you raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong in the Small Council?"

"It's not one thing in particular," Beesbury said wearily. "Just so much bickering. The queen's father likes to assert himself against Lord Strong and myself. Tyland Lannister backs him of course, and Otto? He wavers. I have never known that man to dither, but recently he seems uncertain."

That was rather troubling to hear. The last thing you wanted was the Westerlings gaining more power in the capital. It was rather curious to hear about Otto. What could have the hand of the king act so uncertain?

"Do not trouble yourself, dear Princess," Beesbury tried to assure you. "These things are all too common. No doubt you will have to deal with similar problems when it comes time for you to rule. Your mind should be focused on your Progress"

You nodded, even though you wanted to pry more, but you could tell that wouldn't get you anywhere right now. So, instead, you switched topics.

"There is something I've been wanting your opinion for a few weeks now," you mentioned. "I made a deal in Gulltown concerning trade in King's Landing?"

"What sort of deal?" Beesbury asked, the mention of trade putting a bit of spark in his eyes.

He must have left King's Landing before your letter arrived.

"Nothing major," you replied. "Isembard Arryn, one of the Arryns in Gulltown, wanted to move a few of his guilds to the city and have some of his trade vessels dock there as well. He offered me the chance to jointly run this venture, so I said yes."

"Gulltown Arryns," Lord Beesbury nodded thoughtfully. "I assume this will involve trade with Pentos and Braavos, correct? The Arryns of Gulltown have a long history of trade in Northern Essos."

"Yes, he mentioned as much," you said. "Apparently he knows a magister in Pentos."

"I am not familiar with this Isembard I will confess," Beesbury said thoughtfully. "But I have never known one of those Arryns to be bad with matters of trade and coin. And King's Landing could use more trade to the North. If you don't mind, I will speak to the harbor master when I return. Fast track the approval for this Isembard's ships."

"Oh, yes, thank you," you nodded gratefull. "Please do. I am most grateful, Lord Beesbury."

"I should be thanking you," he replied with a smile. "Even if this is a small effort, anything that brings more trade into the city is good for our accounts. Now, what kind of guilds is he bringing?"

"I think he mentioned fine leather work," you twisted a ring on finger as tried to remember. "And sliversmiths. Yeah, that was it, Fine leather work and silversmiths."

"Hmm," Beesbury's tone sounded mildly disappointed. "Leather workers of any quality are all too common in the city. lLittle room for profit there. But King's Landing definitely could use more silversmiths. I'd say this venture of your stands to do well if you put in the work."

"I will be sure to tell Isembard what you said upon my return," you nodded. "Thank you for your support and help."

"It is no trouble, princess," Beesbury smiled. "I'm quite glad to see you take an interest in such matters. Too often nobles and royals all but ignore matters of coin. Your grandfather was a wonderful man, I mean that with all my heart, but I don't think even understood how a loan worked."

"It is rather easy to forget how important gold dragons can be when you ride the actual thing," you acknowledge. "Take care, Lord Beesbury, and try to enjoy the tourney."

"Oh I'm sure I will," he replied. "It's shaping up to be a very interesting event."

"Indeed it is." You barely concealed your smirk as you left the room.

Relationship with Lord Beesbury Improved

---

"You're certain you're doing this?" Alicent asked as you put on your cloak, a simple thing of coarse wool, dyed sea-green. Normally unsuited for a crown princess, but perfectly fit for what you had planned.

"Yes. There won't be a tourney this size for months and I want to do this with my victory over Harwin Strong still relatively fresh in everyone's mind," you explained.

You had finally worked up the courage. You were going to enter a tourney as a mystery knight. This was without a doubt the riskiest thing you had done since becoming heir. Success would see you one step closer to your dream, while defeat would mean certain humiliation.

"So we're not talking about a few bouts. You want to win the whole thing?" Alicent questioned, a hint of worry in her eyes.

"If I want to stand any chance of my father actually agreeing to make me a knight, I need to win it all." You tied your cloak together, doing you best to hide your features.

"This hardly behavior fit for a lady," Alicent remarked.

"But the exact kind of behavior one would expect from an aspiring knight," you finished, earning a smile from your lady.

"Do you have my favor?" she asked

You patted a pocket in your pants. "Right here."

"Good. I'll have another for you during the jousts," Alicent's smile grew broader. "And if you win."

"When I win," you assured her, "you'll be crowned the Queen of love and beauty."

Alicent's face turned an adorable shade of red.

"You're fine with that, right?" you asked as you placed a hand on her shoulder. "It is a very open gesture."

"I don't think it is," Alicent replied. "When you win and you reveal yourself, if anyone asks, it will be easy to explain there was no way you could give the crown to any man who had your affections. That might be taken as a serious insult. So instead you gave it to your good friend and handmaiden."

"That should work," you nodded.

"Now," Alicent sighed, "I'm off to explain to Lord Manderly that unfortunately, Princess Rhaenyra has found something she ate on the voyage here disagreed with her rather badly and, with utmost regrets, she will not be able to make it to the tourney."

You nodded before hugging her. It was brief, but her warmth felt quite nice.

The two of you then went your separate ways.

You made your way through White Harbor, without an escort, without any of your rings, fancy jewels or makeup. Instead, you were dressed in simple, common attire that hid your face as best as you could.

It was strange. Walking through the common parts of a city and having so many of the smallfolk and merchants pass you by without a second thought. You were rather young when your father became heir to the throne and you didn't remember those days well. For most of your life, you've been the king's daughter. You were familiar with being ignored, sure, but that was nobles at the small council who saw you as unimportant in matters of politics, not average people. You couldn't stroll through a city like this out in the open, otherwise you'd have people mobbing you, begging you for coin and favor.

No one who passed by you realized you were Princess Rhaenyra. You were just another face in the crowd right now.

Eventually you found the tourney grounds, a large oval building that was painted white with a line of dark grey on top. You spotted Raylon waiting nearby at outside a tavern. He was out of armor and was wearing a broad hat. There was a white horse tied to a post as well, one of the ones from your carriage. You'd been riding him on and off in secret through the Riverlands and the Vale. It wasn't your best riding horse, but you knew it well enough and even members of your own retinue wouldn't realize it was one of yours.

You approached and he gestured for you to follow him inside. The place was empty, you had gotten lucky. It had been closed for months now due to some mysterious deaths that occurred here. None of the locals wanted to touch the place for the moment and thankfully you wouldn't stay here long.

Ser Tarly produced a set of armor, a shield, and a sword. The armor was mismatched, but in decent shape. None of it was fancy, but all of it looked good enough. Which was good. If you rode out in armor fit for royalty, people would take notice.

"I was able to find armor in your size, however some of the pieces are different styles. They'll fit together though," Ser Raylon explained. "I also went to a different smith and had them paint the shield in the sigil you requested."

"I cannot thank you enough, Ser Raylon," you said gratefully to your sworn shield. "So much of this would not have been possible without you."

"You can thank me by bringing Dorne to heel," he said. "I've seen what you can do in combat. I've seen you knock kingsguards and some of the most famous knights in the realm to the ground. You'll do fine."

"Thank you," you repeated.

"Now when you go out there, you're going to want to go the entrance to your left," Ser Raylon instructed. "You'll find a man there with black hat with a red feather. Tell him you wish to enter the tourney, give them the title you've come up with and what you wish to enter. You need to enter the jousts, but you could enter the Melee as well, though that carries some risks."

He had told you that before but reminders didn't hurt.

"Since I'm entering as well, there's a chance we'll face each other in the tilts."

"I've knocked you off your horse plenty of times already," you said with playful smirk, causing Ser Tarly to let out a brief bark of a laugh.

You found one of the rooms in the tavern and put on the armor. Despite it's borrowed and haphazard nature, it fit well. Comfortable enough at least. With the helmet on, no one could see your face. If anyone glanced at you, they would assume you were just another knight.

By the time you were done, Ser Raylon was gone.

You grabbed the reigns of the horse and made your way towards the stands.

You passed by various banners and the lords they belonged to as you did. Tully, Baratheon, Frey, Hightower and others. None gave you a second glance. You saw Gwayne there talking to his cousin and took special care to avoid those two.

You walked by Borros Baratheon, a tall, thickly built man with a huge beard of black hair that made him look a decade older than he was. He was talking to a lanky looking fellow who's sigil was three black castles on an orange field. He had close cut hair and thin beard that was just starting to grow in.

"I think I'll write to Otto Hightower when this is all done," the man said casually. "See if I could ask for his daughter's hand in marriage."

You came to a full stop, yet, thankfully, neither man noticed.

"Ahh, I saw her earlier talking to Lord Manderly. Pretty thing," Borros remarked. "You think Otto Hightower would agree to such a match, Unwin?"

So, this must be Unwin Peake that Lord Manderly spoke of.

"A match between the daughter of a second son and the heir to Starpike?" Unwin smirked. "He'd be a fool to decline, particularly since it will get him away from the abomination they call princess."

You turned towards Gwayne, who unfortunately was far enough away to be out of earshot. Probably the only reason Unwin was bold enough to say these things.

"It's bad enough the King pretends she's going to rule one day, but to allow her to turn into something like that?" Unwin's face twisted with disgust. "The man was cursed with a malformed daughter and instead of correcting her behavior, he indulges it. Madness!"

You now very much understood Lord Manderly's hatred for Unwin and his family.

Borros laughed. Perhaps at the situation. Perhaps at Unwin.

"From what I hear, if you were foolish enough to say that in front of the girl, you'd be picking up your teeth out of the dirt," Borros remarked.

'If only I could' you mused.

You picked up your pace and pushed past them. If you stayed any longer, there was a good chance this really would end with his teeth in the dirt. Which would be fun, but would drastically hinder your goals.

You approached the side entrance and caught sight of the man with the red feather in his cap. Your breath caught in your throat. This was it. There was no going back. Win or lose.

You let out a long breath, ran through your mental checklist, ran your mystery knight title through you head over a dozen times until you were certain you would not misspeak, and approached the man.

What Name Do You Give Them and What is Your Sigil?


Do You Take Part in the Melee? (Risk of Exposure, Chance of Increased Glory and insight into your opponents)

[] [Melee] Enter the Melee

[] [Melee] Stay out, Focus on the Joust

---

QM's Notes: Was tempted to put a content warning in for Unwin Peake. He's uh, unironically probably the ASOIAF character I hate the most. I won't get into the specifics right now but, uh, basically imagine all of the worst traits of most lords combined into one person. And narratively, he really fits, considering Peake's history with the Manderlys, so I had to use him. There was some things I had considered making a vote but decided against. It's a big tourney so there's no point in just doing a few and then withdrawing. And Alicent had made clear from the start of their relationship that she wants Rhaenyra to crown her if she wins a tourney.

So, for the actual tourney itself, I'm going to be rolling dice but I'm keeping those rolls hidden, largely because there's so many of them to roll.

Special thanks to @Azel for making the sigils and all their help with the Quest, in particularly this Tourney.