heretherebemuses | Open post

The spotlight was not something Rhaegar Targaryen really wanted, but he loved music and couldn't part from it no matter how hard he tried. He'd had quite the career, though unfortunately tainted by his failed marriage to Elia Martell; still, the man had talent, and he continued to make music and hold performances even after his contemporaries had faded into obscurity. The media, of course, had chalked it up to his father, who might not have approved of his career and life choices but had refused to let him sink and tarnish their family name all the same.

He'd been invited to play in an event up north by his best friend, army captain Arthur Dayne, and he's finishing up his second set of the evening, playing a song he'd sung more than a hundred times over. A song about winter and roses, one of his all-time hits, written a long time ago for a young lady he'd met and had a bittersweet summer fling with.

Then he salutes and slips off the stage to grab a drink from the bar.

Jon had found a spot in the back from which to watch the performance. He'd come more because he wanted to get a glimpse of the man he now knows is his father than for any other reason. He hasn't even really decided if he wants to try and meet him. His identity had been kept secret for a reason, after all -- the Targaryens have powerful enemies -- but he is curious about him. He wonders if Rhaegar had known of his existence, but supposes that he hadn't, because why would he have been left up north after his mother died if his existence had been known?

It's the final song of the set that convinces him to try and meet Rhaegar. He's heard it many times, but it has more meaning now.

He makes his way through the crowd to the bar, finally squeezing his way close enough to be heard over the din of the other voices...only to realize that he doesn't know what to say. His features should do a good amount of talking for him, as obviously Stark as they are.

He has to say something, though. Even so, he stumbles over the words. "That song, you wrote that for Lyanna." He's sure of it, knowing what he does now.

That's quite a greeting.

He'd never spoken about Lyanna Stark, though there had been rumors about a dark-haired girl from the north he'd fallen in love with and written songs about. Not that she'd been the only one, as far as the rumors were concerned; it was easy for a singer-songwriter to get caught in romantic gossip, especially the likes of Rhaegar Targaryen.

Surprise flickers on his face and he opens his mouth to say something — to deny, to feign ignorance — but then he closes it again. Something about the young man looks familiar, but he can't put his finger to it.

"Where did you hear that?" is what he asks instead, but it's good-natured, with no malice or anger in his tone. He gestures to his bottle of beer as a way of asking Jon if he wants a drink, his lips pursed into a small smile.

From my father, is almost his immediate reply. While it's true that Ned Stark has been a father to him, and will always be like a father to him in many ways, the man in front of him now is also his father, the one responsible for his existence. Even if this is the only time they ever talk, he has to reconcile the fact that due to some twist of fate, he has two fathers.

He nods at the bartender and waits until he gets his drink and the man is no longer paying attention to them to answer. "From the man who raised me. Ned Stark." Now he's revealed not only that he knows Lyanna's full name but also how he knows it, and why he looks familiar, too. He's a Stark. "Lyanna Stark was my mother. She told him that before she died."

Keeping his expression publicly pleasant is a skill Rhaegar's long mastered, for what good did it do an artist to be perceived as a snob by his fans? But there's no masking his wistful expression when Jon mentions Ned, and all the more when he calls Lyanna his mother. Rhaegar's immediately pulled back to that summer, to the first time he's really loved anyone, and then to that day he learned about Lyanna's death. He has to take a long swig of his beer before attempting to say anything, and even then it takes him a while to find the words. Not that he even manages to put all the pieces together just yet.

"Yeah, I wrote that song for her." His voice is soft, and his eyes have a profound sadness to them. "I loved her, but we..." He sighs. "We couldn't be together." Then he shakes his head and looks at Jon, giving him a small nod. "You look a lot like her. I... I didn't know she..."

"No one did. It was safer that way." Although now that he says it, he's not as sure of that as he once was. He doesn't know what the harm could have been in at least some people knowing of his existence. Those in his father's family, anyway. "Probably for some of the same reasons that you couldn't be together."

Open post | Jon Snow

if you would pardon my icons—

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