Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

As the sun started to set, Rhaegar had a long chat with the siblings, picking up some useful tips.

He found out they were on Crackclaw Point, a sparsely populated area known for its swamps and forests, which borders Dragonstone and Driftmark Islands.

Once they got to the cave, they gathered around a fire that was flickering. Tormund was really keen to know more about Rhaegar's dragon, asking lots of questions about its size and abilities.

"The Cannibal is enormous, I'm like a flea on its back," Rhaegar replied casually, nibbling on a wild fruit.

He understood the power of perception; what he said shaped their beliefs. Even though he didn't know the Cannibal's whereabouts, the mere mention of a dragon nearby ensured his safety.

While Skylar tended to the fire, he casually mentioned the bloodstain in the valley, connecting it to Rhaegar's dragon.

Rhaegar remained calm and collected. "We were attacked by other dragons on the Narrow Sea, so I ended up stranded here."

"Other dragons?" Tormund gasped in surprise.

Rhaegar elaborated, "Dragonstone Island was once home to many dragons. My ancestors used them to conquer Westeros."

Skylar interjected, contradicting him. "Nonsense. Only three dragons were known in the War of Conquest."

Impressed, Rhaegar replied, "You know your history?"

"Hmph. I’ve read books on the subject. I'm not an idiot," Skylar shot back.

Rhaegar chuckled and decided not to argue. It was good to know that she valued knowledge and understood the importance of a prince.

A piercing eagle cry echoed from outside the valley.

Skylar and Tormund quickly got up and went outside.

"Is it your tribe?" Rhaegar asked, feeling a bit uneasy.

He tried to get the Cannibal's attention through their bond, but there was no response.

Rhaegar figured the dragon was badly injured, so it had probably flown off to recover.

Until the dragon's return, fate depended on his own efforts.

Rhaegar exited the cave and followed the siblings. He saw a crowd of people streaming into the valley with loud shouts. They were tall and burly, clad in leather and armor, and they exuded a primal, savage aura.

Their leader, a middle-aged man with a braided beard and sharp eyes, caught Rhaegar's gaze with a steely stare. Rhaegar felt this and tried to stay composed.

These people were not to be trifled with. He had stumbled into a savage's den.

Skylar reassured him, "Don't worry, Uncle Falcon is honorable and won't harm children."

After finishing his task, Falcon turned to them. "Is he the noble child you mentioned?"

Skylar nodded solemnly. "Yes, he is the child of a king, a Targaryen."

"A prince?" Falcon exclaimed, clearly surprised by Rhaegar's status.

Though not a wildling, a prince's status was still extraordinary.

Rhaegar knew he had to speak up to answer Falcon's question.

"I'm Rhaegar Targaryen, born in the Red Keep in King's Landing. Does that ring a bell?" he stated firmly.

"A place thousands of miles away. Why would I know?" Falcon replied, nonchalant.

"I traveled the continent on a dragon and encountered trouble. If you help me, I'll reward you handsomely," Rhaegar proposed, hoping to strike a deal.

Falcon chuckled. "I can believe that. Your father is a king; a mountain of gold and silver must be at your disposal."

Rhaegar's eyes lit up. "So you'll help me?"

"No promises," Falcon flatly refused.

Surprised, Rhaegar offered gold and protection in return.

But Falcon remained adamant. "The Hawk tribe doesn't trust outsiders. It's always been that way."

Skylar confirmed his words. "That's our way."

Rhaegar pressed on. "What are your conditions for helping me?"

"Join our tribe. I'll protect you," Falcon declared solemnly.

Rhaegar burst into laughter.

Sitting firmly, Rhaegar stared at Falcon and scoffed, "Do you really think a Targaryen prince would join a savage tribe? That's the funniest thing I've heard."

With that, Rhaegar realized that Falcon wasn't going to help him. As a dragon rider, he knew he had power, as evidenced by the bloodstains in the valley. He doubted Falcon would dare touch him.

Falcon, unfazed by Rhaegar's words, smiled. "But didn't you come seeking my help?"

Rhaegar was momentarily speechless. It was true; he had sought assistance, though his dragons were his true strength. He needed to stall the savages and prevent any harm.

Falcon, cutting a piece of hare, offered it to Rhaegar. "I spotted a wounded beast flying off to the Swamp of Despair. I'll offer you protection until your dragon returns. But you must promise your dragon won't harm my tribe and leave as soon as you can."

Falcon wasn't your average savage. He'd dealt with noble lords before, and he knew that the wounded beast in the valley was dangerous.

The dung heap at the valley's mouth told a story. Most of it was the dragon's trail, left before it went to hunt.

This kid had been the top threat from the start. The wild dragon could return at any moment.

It would have been a bad idea to try to negotiate more with this kid while the dragon was around. Falcon could kill him and run away, but tribal tradition forbade harming children.

It was better to leave him be and treat him well. When the dragon returned, the child could ride it to safety. If the child had a conscience, he might even repay the favor.

Falcon's perspective changed Rhaegar's view of the wildlings. Maybe the Maesters were wrong about them being ruthless.

"You're indeed wise, and I promise to keep my dragons in check and leave peacefully," Rhaegar responded, accepting the roast.

"It's not easy being a leader. I've got to look out for everyone," Falcon said, sharing the meat with the siblings.