The Prince of Paupers

**Gandalfus** · December 07, 2014, 12:13 PM

Rhaegar paced around his rooms in sunspear, cursing violently under his breath, damning Targaryen, Blackfyre, and Martell all at once. For years, he had lingered here in Dorne, with little to show for it. The Prince was a pack of lies and false promises; comedic almost that he was Rhaegar's best chance to claim his birthright. Maekar was king. With old Haegon, he had had a real chance, nobody liked the vile old kinslayer. But now, strong, wilful Maekar sits the throne, and the chance had slipped through his, or rather Edmund Martell's fingers.

He sighed, poured himself a glass of wine, and sat on the end of his bed. Perhaps this is how he was destined to live forever. An exile, a beggar, a pauper. Draining his cup, a sudden anger filled him and he threw it aggressively onto the floor. No. This was his birthright, his destiny was to sit on that throne as the rightful king of Westeros. It was fate, and no man could stop him. Standing up from his bed, he moved slowly over to the window. Dawn had broken, and the scorching sun began to slowly rise above the city. He resolved to go to Sunspear, to petition the Prince. Again.

Rhaegar wandered through the streets of Sunspear lazily, strolling through the almost empty streets of the wealthier area of the city. A cool breeze complemented the warmth of the sun, and Rhaegar enjoyed the quiet peacefulness that reigned in the earlier hours of the morning. He smiled at the calming silence, and stopped for a moment, lost in the serenity of the rising sun. His smile faded as his mind roamed, and the expression on his face grew sour. Snapping back to reality, he slowly and inevitably trudged towards the gates of the Sandship.

**Gandalfus** · December 08, 2014, 04:09 PM

(Ahem, BF)

**Dirty Chai** · December 09, 2014, 06:30 PM

The Prince wasn't ever really at Sunspear, as Rhaegar would most definitely know, and was always at the Water Gardens, where he really ruled.
The Sandship was too "claustrophobic", as some said.

The Prince would be found among the airy halls and terraces of the sea-side palace grounds, smoking hashish, administering his kingdom, and enjoying an idyllic peace.

**Gandalfus** · December 10, 2014, 01:56 AM

Rhaegar frowned in slight recollection when one of the guards told him that the prince was holding court at the Water Gardens. He slowly strolled away from the sandship, and instead found a horse that had been left at the Prince's stables. Trotting away sullenly, he resolved to ride to the water gardens so he could finally speak to the Prince.

**Dirty Chai** · December 11, 2014, 07:08 PM

And so he did find the prince, sitting on a balcony overhanging in an indoor sauna-like pool room.
Below were a multitude of women and some children, bathing and sitting in the tiled room.

The Prince sat with a book on a comfortable divan that was more like a bed entirely placed here just to watch people, pillows and such all over it.
He set the book aside as the pauper approached him, turning to look at him.
He was dressed in a kaftan, a sash keeping it to his waist.
His beard and hair were unkempt, unrestrained by an formal headwear or preparation.

"Ah, Ladybright," came the casual words out of Edmund's mouth.

**Gandalfus** · December 12, 2014, 04:04 AM

Rhaegar scowled, and bowed to the Prince. He paid little attention to the nearby pool and was unmoved by the beauty of the palace, with both eyes fixed on his supposed benefactor.

Am I to stay as Ser Ladybright forever, Prince?

**Dirty Chai** · December 12, 2014, 03:56 PM

"What, Rhaegar? You believe that Dorne has the power to strike down seven other kingdoms by itself?"
Irritation immediately stirred in the Prince with the pauper's opening question.

**Gandalfus** · December 12, 2014, 04:17 PM

Rhaegar shrugged, and grunted disappointedly.

Well what can I do but sit here and wait? I have no wife, no heir... I do not wish to rot in the desert, Prince. I do not wish to have the legacy of my Grandfather trodden into the dirt by some pretender.

Rhaegar almost spat the word as if it were venom. Maekar the Pretender. Maekar the Lion's Whore. Tybolt was as bad, if not worse. His greed and lust for power knew no bounds, and Rhaegar wouldn't be surprised if the lion took the throne for himself.

**Dirty Chai** · December 12, 2014, 04:37 PM

"It will only be a matter of time before they open conflict," the Prince said, looking back over the railing of the balcony, calming down.
A low-strung man, indeed. He began fiddling with the hairs in his long beard.
"Maekar owes Aegon his throne," he stated, refusing to use Aegon's fake name.
"The only card in our hands is to wait."

**Gandalfus** · December 12, 2014, 05:02 PM

Rhaegar mused to himself, and sighed.

Surely there must be some others who would throw their lot in with me?

The question was more rhetorical than anything else.

If my uncle is anything like the demon Lioness that spawned him, then he will covet as much influence as possible.