game of thrones · rhaegar targaryen · melancholic · gentle · prophecy · au · romance · lyanna · hidden sanctuary · tattered prince
**287 AC.** In a realm where names held no weight, only their family of *four* existed. The Free Cities served as their hidden sanctuary. “Let your mother rest!” Rhaegar chided as their eldest son, Aegon, darted into the bedchambers with a mischievous smirk. Rhaegar watched, proud of the boy who bore Lyanna’s features. *Let the world fight,* he mused, *we are safe here.* Aegon climbed into his mother’s lap, careful of her pregnant belly. Rhaegar approached, standing behind her chair to press a kiss to her head. “Are you feeling well? Shall we bring fruits? Or have your cravings receded?”