A Snake in the Mists

The New Bride

"I am sorry, my lady," Rhaegar Targaryen said, not quite daring to look at his future bride. "The King… he is…" His voice trailed off. He couldn't think of anything to say and whatever else he said, it would be a lie. It was just so humiliating – for him, for her.

Alynna Jordayne smiled, although there was no merriment in it. "I understand, Your Grace. I truly do. And I really don't think we should let his absence darken the joy of our union."

The irony of this statement struck Rhaegar like a warhammer. She looked no more joyful than he did. For both of them, this wedding was just something they needed to go through. The years of marriage following it would be something that they could go through more privately, to some extent. But today, they had to go through the motions in front of everyone and pretend that nothing unusual had happened. No matter how hard they tried, people would know that they were just covering up the slight, yet another, quite ignoble thought would not leave him alone. Let people see how mad my father is, scared by shadows that only lived in his own mind! That could be only good, yet something in the lady's determination struck a troubled chord with him. She was way too unbothered, determined to take the matter in her own hands. Was this how their shared life was going to be? Rhaegar certainly did not intend to treat his lady wife the way his father treated his mother but something about this woman… She was too self-assured. Like a man.

But of course, they had no choice but go with her suggestion. And the wedding of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lady Alynna Gargalen of Salt Shore was celebrated with great pomp, although the King's refusal to attend was widely discussed – one of the many dark blots upon the ceremony, starting with the general dislike of the bride. Alynna had the blood of the dragon, courtesy of her lady grandmother Daella Targaryen, a daughter of King Maekar's. Her reputation was beyond reproach. Sure, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was expected to belong to one of the Great Houses and be a maiden, not a widowed mother of three, but none of the former non-dragon queens had descended from a Great House either and Alynna's first marriage was a good thing, actually, after his mother's tragedies in the birthing bed. She had proven her fertility, delivered a boy and fully recovered to make the trip to King's Landing only a month after her last birth. She was sure to give Rhaegar children, and many of them. On top of that, the Seven had seen it fitting to make her a beauty into the bargain – yes, a beauty she was. Her face and frame were delightful. No man could see her without turning his head to watch her longer, and yet it was not a beauty that could touch Rhaegar's heart. She was too dark, her lips too full, her waist too slim, her hips too wide. He longed for a proud Valyrian beauty and hers was a sun-kissed sensual one. Rhaegar was not a sensual man and she made him feel awkward, painfully aware that he'd justify her hopes just as little as she would his.


"Did my lady love her first husband?" Rhaegar asked and immediately regretted his question. What concern of his was this? And if he truly wanted to know – he didn't, - it was his lady wife he should ask. But he didn't dare.

Arthur Dayne looked around for something to sit on. "Isn't there a chair in this castle?" he asked, not finding one in Rhaegar's study.

The Prince shrugged. "The Princess threw them all out," he said. "Well, she sent those who were still serviceable according to her, at another wing but she proclaimed that she "wouldn't make people sit in things that might break under the weight of a cat just because they used to be Aegon the Conqueror's"."

Arthur laughed and finally settled on a chest that was solid enough to bear his weight. The renovation of the old castle was developing with speed that would have surprised him, had he not known the Princess in question. The newlyweds had left King's Landing in less than two months but in just another one or so, Dragonstone would be a home ready to accommodate Alynna's needs. Arthur could swear that there would be at least give fireplaces widened.

Rhaegar, though, was not a man who would cherish things like domestic comfort. Especially if they intervened with his cherished peace to read his scrolls – and the renovations had somehow reached his very private space. Arthur's amusement faded. "She's just throwing things into the cellar?" he asked. He couldn't quite believed it. As intense and efficient as Alynna was, she wasn't this forceful. She would not do such a thing without asking Rhaegar's opinion.

"She'll make an old-time wing," Rhaegar replied. "It'll be lovely."

But it won't be the same, Arthur realized and wondered why Rhaegar hadn't just told Alynna so.

"So?" Rhaegar asked again. "The first husband?"

Arthur slowly nodded. "Yes, she loved Myles. Like me, he was fostered with her uncle. They knew each other since children."

What does friendship have to do with love, Rhaegar wondered but like everything else to do with Alynna, perhaps he just didn't understand. What he understood was that it was another thing distancing him from her, this woman with experience in bed, experience in… marital feelings.


The little round Septa Sinara was clearly uncomfortable on the bench pulled from the garrison's quarters and Alynna looked around for a pillow but when she tried to hand it to the older woman, she waved a dismissive hand. "I am well aware of the chaos in a house being renovated," she said and a quick smile crossed her lips. "Although the castles have been considerably smaller than this one. I would have expected that you'd stay in King's Landing until the repairs are finished."

Alynna took a seat on a footstool and looked up at the woman. She was getting tired with everyone being so surprised with her living conditions. What was so hard about understanding that she wanted her home to look in a certain way that she could assure only by being here and making the decisions at place without delay? She was young and strong, she was wed to a young and strong man, they could surely take a few months of inconvenience for the sake of having a better and comfortable home than this majestic dragon tomb with furniture that was ready to fall apart despite the virtue of having belonged to the Targaryens before the Conquest – or perhaps for that reason. She took delight in seeing the changes taking place. Next week, they could start making the old rooms that would be more to Rhaegar's taste.

The small woman's eyes fell on the Princess' hands, rough and reddened, and the respect in them grew. She slowly nodded. "I can see I have taken your measure wrong, Your Grace," she said frankly. "What is it that you want of me?"

"I know you're very engaged with charity at King's Landing," Alynna said. "I would like to discuss the foundation of a net of charities about homeless… and unwanted children. It'll cover the entire Crownlands."

For a moment, her eyes went darker. She blinked to chase the sudden tears away. The septa tactfully looked away.

"Here," Alynna went on. "I've got some data on the major towns. And I've got the initial funding. I'd like to get your help for the practical organization. For now, I won't be able to supervise the work in person, so I'd like to have someone experienced."

And then you're going to meddle in everything, the septa thought. That was not the way of noble ladies but the Princess of Dragonstone was not like other ladies. Sinara's eyes went to the other woman's reddened hands. She slowly nodded. "Let's see those papers."

This night, Rhaegar came earlier. Alynna saw him in the looking-glass and her hands instinctively fell down, ceasing their work. She nodded at his reflection. "You're early," she said. "Was it a long day?"

Once again, he had spent it with some lords who had no business being at Dragonstone. No evident business anyway.

"One can say so," Rhaegar replied. The look in her eye told him that she knew what he was keeping from her. He thought about confiding in her – after all, she was a clever woman and she would not even think of judging him. In the brief period of their staying at King's Landing she had surely saw just how poorly his father was. And what woman wouldn't want to become queen? "What are you doing? Are you well?" he asked again, concerned, now that he was near enough to her uncomfortable chair and the looking-glass to see her pale face and the tears running down her cheek. Before her, two bowls sparkled white with… Impossible!

"You're draining your breasts?" he asked and she nodded. From this close, she looked even worse. Like someone in great pain.

"I thought that once you were... away from your babe, it just stopped."

Alynna smiled regretfully. "I wish it was so easy. I just hope it stops soon."

"Do you need to do it this so forcefully?" Rhaegar asked, sickened at the sight of her breasts that in their bed darkness covered in a veil of mercy. They were engorged, red, cracked, bearing the signs of her hands squeezing them.

"It'll probably be easier if I leave some milk in there," she admitted. "Less painful."

"Then why don't you do it?"

"Because it'll make it longer and for a woman, it's harder to conceive while she still has her milk," she said simply and to this, Rhaegar had nothing to say, nothing at all.


Alynna was lying in bed, leaning against the headboard, the newborn on her breast. Her tears flowed freely, that happiness that was too deep for words and descended on her upon the births of any of her children leaving place for nothing else. She breathed the little girl in, hearing the relieved chatter of midwives and handmaidens like a distant echo. A maester was asking her questions, doing his best to keep her awake, for sleep was the greatest danger to new mothers. She answered distractedly, wanting only to have him away, so she'd have her babe for herself and nothing to disturb them.

"Leave us," her mother said authoritatively and the tall man gave her a mutinous look. Ranna Gargalen had intervened more than once during the delivery and he had taken this as a challenge to his authority. "We won't let her go to sleep," she added and he reluctantly shuffled to the door. Alynna closed her eyes, waiting for everyone to leave.

"It's fine," Elia said after a moment. "They're gone."

"Good," Alynna sighed and let the exhaustion pour off her skin, aging her, turning her into the battle survivor that she was. When she opened her eyes, her mother and Elia were sitting at her bedside.

"She's lovely," Elia said, smiling at the little girl.

"I hope her father thinks so as well," Alynna murmured. She was well aware that she had been expected to produce a boy, an heir. Now, she'd have to do what Elia had done for Baelor Hightower after she had given him their fiistborn, a daughter – she had gotten with child almost immediately and almost died birthing it. But at least it was a son, Alynna thought bitterly. It was a good thing indeed since there would be no more children for Elia.

"I wish we were still in Dorne," Elia said wistfully. Alynna didn't even get the strength to nod. She desperately wanted to be back in the land where her daughter would be celebrated, just like her first Jordayne daughter had been, and not a disappointment, a nice acquisition on the way to the true goal.

"Open your eyes," Elia insisted and her mother even poked her. Alynna obeyed and groaned at the intense power of the sun making its way through the thick curtains of her renewed bedchamber.

"I hear you're well," someone said from the door. Rhaegar. "I'm happy to see it," he said and the two women offered their congratulations before leaving.

Alynna's heart was pounding so hard that she was sure he could hear it from where he was. Would he be disappointed? Would he turn away from this olive-skinned child? She knew that he disliked her looks – or perhaps not exactly disliked it but didn't find it compelling.

It had been so different with Myles. They hadn't enjoyed a passionate love like that of her parents either but what they had had been warm and stable, nourished and cherished. They had loved being together. He hadn't thought her forceful and overreaching and in turn, he hadn't dragged her down in a cloud of sadness like Rhaegar did. At this moment, she longed and grieved for him as she hadn't done since the very first days after she learned of his death.

She looked down but the babe was still sleeping on her chest. As she wondered how to hand her to her father without waking her, Rhaegar shook his head for her not to bother and simply sat at her bedside, at the place her mother had just vacanted. He looked pale and withdrawn and Alynna realized just how terrible this waiting had been for him. She held no illusions that he loved her but it hadn't mattered. She had just fought a battle for him, to give him an heir or die trying to. And it had led to…

His expression made her hold her breath. She had never seen him look at someone with such love as he was looking at this tiny newborn right now. He reached out and stroked her dark cheek softly, almost timidly. Alynna took his hand and pressed it against the small smooth surface. Again, her heart ached, painfully reminded of almost the same moments with her older children. But she didn't say anything – for Rhaegar the child they had just been given was their first and she didn't want to spoil his joy by reminding him that it wasn't so for her, that hers was a bitter joy.

"She's beautiful," he breathed, although all he could see was the outline of cheek and nose, the rest being buried against Alynna. "Rhaenys."

Suddenly, all of Alynna's sorrows and reflections were forgotten. She stared at him, almost tried to rise. "What?"

"Her name," he explained. "She'll be named after the foundress of our dynasty."

Alynna shook her head. "It's a bad omen," she said. "You know what happened to Rhaenys Targaryen. She died in Dorne and her death was not a pretty one. We cannot name our girl so."

He stared at her, amazed that she disliked the idea, and she stared back, amazed that he hadn't even thought to consult her on the matter.

"It's a good name, Alynna," he explained. "Rhaenys was a great queen and the one Aegon truly loved. Our daughter will be beloved to her royal husband, her brother…"

"Don't remind me," Alynna cut him off because her stomach was already roiling at the notion. She tried to speak softly because the child against her was already stirring. "That's a name no Dornishman or woman can speak without revulsion. She came to Dorne to bring fire and blood and she met her just end but not before bringing fire and blood indeed. You cannot be serious about naming our daughter something that her mother hates and distrusts."

He didn't hesitate. "I am sorry but you'll have to learn to say it with love now. She must have a Targaryen name and I…"

She clung to that. "Yes! A Targaryen name! Perhaps we could name her after your mother? Or my lady grandmother? Anything but that."

He sighed. "Don't be so agitated, Alynna, you aren't doing yourself any favours. You've just given birth. Just rest and enjoy her. I'll take care of everything."

That was exactly what Alynna feared! "You cannot," she insisted. "You shouldn't."

"It's already decided."

She stroked her daughter's downy head. "And did it ever occur to you to ask me, her mother?"

His silence was answer enough. No, it hadn't.