The Gentle Wolf (Rhaegar Targaryen)

Chapter 11

3- Rhaegar

The night was surprisingly warm for the season, and the prince took the opportunity to enjoy the nice winds as he strolled through the gardens.

There was much on his mind, but at the moment he just pretended that all he had to worry about was whether he'd buy himself a new horse or not.

He closed his eyes and listened to the winds of winter, a soft tune coming to him.

Rhaegar sighed and opened his eyes once more as he took a right and came to a stop. He tilted his head as he looked upon the lonely figure seated atop the grass staring up at the night sky.

Lady Melantha had accommodated herself on top of a simple blanket, surrounded by books and candles. The full moon shone upon her dark hair, the curls falling down her back freely.

He considered taking his leave of her. He remembered the way he had spoken to her three days prior, and he remembered the way her nervous expression had fallen and turned into anger and shame, and how her eyes watered as she stumbled to leave. Even Jon, who was not too inclined on this match he had made for himself, thought he had behaved like a prick. Ashara had come to his chambers that very same night.

"I just thought to let you know that I had dinner with Lady Melantha earlier today, and her eyes were particularly red." she had said, pursing her lips. She had said nothing more, turning to leave, but Rhaegar knew what had gone unsaid. 'You cannot afford to offend the Starks, and she's innocent in your machinations.' Rhaegar would've preferred it if Ashara had threatened him or tried to hit him; she was less intimidating when she was spitting fire like a dragon.

In the end, Rhaegar decided that he couldn't avoid her forever, and he did owe her an apology.

"I see we have a similar mind, My Lady." he said casually, taking a few steps towards her.

Lady Melantha jumped and turned to look at him, her alarmed eyes cooling as they settled on him, chin raising along with a wall to rival the one up north.

She stood up and performed a curtesy.

"My Prince."

"There is no need for any of that, especially not in private, seeing as we will be wedded so soon." he smiled as kindly as he could.

She merely stared back at him, her expression neutral.

"I already tried telling you." She spat out suddenly, and he could tell by the twitch of her jaw that she hadn't meant to say that out loud.

He was intrigued by her meaning.

"Pardon?"

"That we have similar minds; I've already tried telling you."

He felt his cheeks heating up in embarrassment and coughed.

"You did, and I behaved in a manner most undeserving o-"

"Speak plainly, My Prince."

Rhaegar got the impression that she was more alike to her father than she realized.

His eyes softened, and he took a few more steps; after a moment of hesitation he took one of her hands in his.

"I'm sorry. I was a brute the other day. I had a lot on my mind and I wasn't feeling quite like myself, but that is no excuse. I hope you can forgive me."

She studied his face in silence for a moment.

"Are you always like that when you're having a bad day?"

"Rarely."

"Good. I'd hate to put up with your tantrums for the rest of my life." Her voice was cold, and she sounded like a Septa chastising a child, but her expression was unsure, as if afraid of having spoken out of turn.