Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 33: Running Away

Collapsed on the ground, Rhaegar's mind swirled in a haze of confusion.

Turning his head, he saw Erryk, clad in silver armor and white robes, looming over him, fiercely protective.

"Erryk, why aren't you guarding the cave entrance?" Rhaegar's thoughts struggled to catch up, his words slurred.

"Protecting you is my utmost duty!" Erryk's voice was resolute as he swiftly scooped Rhaegar into his arms and bolted away.

Rhaegar barely registered Erryk's words, his gaze fixated on the darkness behind them.

Still yearning to glimpse Dreamfyre.

He had been on the brink of taming the dragon.

Yet, in a swift turn of events, all his efforts had been in vain.

"Roar"

Rhaegar's gaze remained fixed on Dreamfyre, witnessing the majestic beast vent its fury.

Then, something caught his eye—the chains around Dreamfyre's neck.

Dreamfyre thrashed, its formidable jaws gnawing at the thick chains, sparks flying.

"It's the chains! They disrupted Dreamfyre's bonding ritual, enraging it!" Rhaegar's realization pierced through the chaos, his voice laced with frustration as he glared at the chains that foiled his attempt to tame the dragon.

With newfound clarity, Rhaegar's anger surged.

His fury matched the frenzied state of Dreamfyre, burning with a desire to confront the one responsible for the chains.

But before he could voice his rage, Erryk whisked him away, swiftly leading him back through the tunnels.

In moments, they burst out of the lair and into the cave's familiar expanse.

Maynard rushed over anxiously, "Is your highness alright?"

Erryk brushed him aside, his tone sharp, "Silence! Pray that the prince is unharmed."

Lowering Rhaegar gently to the ground, Erryk knelt beside him, his eyes scanning for any signs of injury.

Meanwhile, Rhaegar grappled with overwhelming remorse, his heart heavy with regret.

"Almost tamed Dreamfyre," he lamented bitterly, consumed by self-reproach.

Erryk meticulously examined Rhaegar's head, ensuring there were no signs of injury before moving on to check his limbs.

"The arms and legs seem fine, and the fingers too..." Erryk's assessment was interrupted as his gaze fell upon Rhaegar's back, his expression darkening instantly.

The prince's clothes had been burned away, leaving behind a landscape of blistered skin.

"This is severe," Erryk declared grimly, his tone heavy with concern.

Maynard's reaction was immediate, his distress palpable. "Quiet, I'm not blind," snapped Erryk, his gaze flashing with disdain towards the maester who had led them into this perilous situation.

Maynard quickly regained his composure, understanding all too well the consequences of the prince's injury. The specter of the gallows loomed large in his mind, threatening to overwhelm him.

"Wait, I have knowledge of herbalism and medicine. I can treat His Highness," Maynard interjected, desperation driving him to action. He even produced a pouch containing various herbs and remedies, a last-ditch effort to prove his worth.

"Get lost. I don't trust you," Erryk retorted, his voice laced with contempt as he lifted Rhaegar, preparing to depart.

Maynard could do nothing but watch helplessly as Erryk carried the prince away, his heart heavy with dread.

During the life-threatening ordeal just moments ago, Rhaegar had been numbed to sensation. But now, as the danger receded and Erryk's movements jolted him back to reality, he sucked in a breath of cool air, fighting against the waves of pain threatening to overwhelm him.

"Ser, please, it's unbearable," Rhaegar pleaded, his entire back and neck ablaze with searing pain, the relentless torment gnawing at his nerves, pushing him towards the brink of numbness.

"It's imperative that I administer immediate treatment, Your Highness's condition is critical," Maynard interjected firmly, blocking Erryk's path with outstretched hands.

Understanding the urgency, Erryk glanced at Rhaegar, who grimaced in agreement. "Proceed with the treatment. I can't bear this any longer," Rhaegar urged.

With a nod from Erryk, a warning glare was directed at Maynard. "If I detect any foul play, you'll face severe consequences," Erryk cautioned sternly.

Maynard responded with a grunt of acknowledgment. "Rest assured. I value life more than you realize," he retorted before guiding Erryk and Rhaegar out of the tunnel.

"My dwelling is close to the Dragon's Pit, where we have access to medicinal herbs and equipment," Maynard explained as they made their way towards his residence.

Exiting the tunnels, Maynard led the way up a set of creaky stairs and into a narrow wooden hut perched on the edge of the Dragon's Pit.

"This is where you reside?" Erryk remarked, surveying the humble surroundings with a raised eyebrow, the worn furniture and musty scent an unexpected sight for a maester's dwelling.

Without wasting a moment, Maynard swiftly made his way to the bed and knelt down, pulling a four-square wooden box from beneath it. With a quick flick, he revealed an array of bottles and jars containing powders and pills.

"Lay the prince flat on the bed while I perform a basic surface cleaning," Maynard instructed sharply, his tone betraying his urgency.

"This might sting a bit, Your Highness," Erryk cautioned as he helped Rhaegar ease onto the bed.

"Hiss! A bit late for that reminder, isn't it?" Rhaegar retorted through gritted teeth, his face contorted in pain and frustration.

"Quiet now, conserve your strength, Your Highness," Erryk advised, his focus shifting back to assisting Maynard in providing aid to the injured prince.

Maynard carefully retrieved two ceramic jars and sprinkled a layer of medicinal powder onto Rhaegar's burned back.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch …" Rhaegar gritted his teeth, his body convulsing involuntarily with each touch.

Glancing sideways at Erryk, he groaned, "Why haven't I passed out? Normally, this level of injury would have rendered me unconscious by now."

Erryk was at a loss for words. "People usually faint from unbearable pain. The fact that you haven't suggests it's not quite as bad as it could be."

"But it feels excruciatingly painful," Rhaegar countered through clenched teeth.

He wasn't being overly talkative. If he didn't engage in conversation to distract himself, he feared he might actually lose consciousness from the agony.

"By the Seven, how did you survive such extensive burns? It's as if you've danced through the Seven Hells," Maynard remarked with a mixture of awe and relief as he applied the medicine and bandaged Rhaegar's wounds.

Considering the intensity of the dragon's flame, capable of melting steel upon contact, it was miraculous that Rhaegar had endured even a brush with it without being reduced to ashes in seconds.

Hearing Maynard's exclamation, Rhaegar inquired, "Weren't you supposed to be waiting for me by the lair? Why did Ser Erryk come to my rescue instead?"

Maynard's expression froze, and he admitted with shame, "I made a grave error in judgment and inadvertently led you into the Dreamfyre's lair."

"I regretted it the moment you entered."

"I hurriedly sought assistance from Ser Erryk, fearing you might encounter danger."

"It's beyond belief how swiftly Dreamfyre went berserk, resulting in such a grave injury to you."

Rhaegar paid him no heed and turned to Erryk.

Erryk didn't shy away from the truth. He dropped to one knee and declared solemnly, "My duty, as bestowed upon me by the king, is to ensure your safety. Allowing you to face danger alone is a grave failure on my part."

"I … I apologize for the tarnish on my honor," he continued, his voice heavy with remorse. With a swift motion, Erryk tore off the charred remnants of his white cloak, symbolizing his remorse and the weight of his failure.

Observing the burnt white robe, Rhaegar turned his gaze to Erryk's back, his concern evident. "Are you injured, Ser?"

Erryk seemed taken aback. "Not seriously, Your Highness."

Rhaegar sighed with relief, but bitterness tinged his words. "I pray you remain unharmed. It would be my utmost shame to cause you harm in my pursuit."

"Duty beckons," Erryk replied stoically.

"No, your duty was to remain stationed," Rhaegar insisted.

He buried his face in his arm, his voice muffled. "Ser, I'm deeply grateful for your rescue, and deeply sorry for the trouble I've caused."

(Author's Note: The events of the previous chapter were merely stepping stones for the future, and dwelling on the failure was unnecessary. In a technical sense, Rhaegar had succeeded in establishing a connection with Dreamfyre, albeit interrupted by the chains. Like Aemond's failed attempt before taming Varghar, every Targaryen had their trials to overcome and lessons to learn.)

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