A/N: This note is to basically tell that this is strictly AU, in which Elia and Rhaegar have been ruling the Seven Kingdoms for about a year when Robert's Rebellion takes place; killing Rhaegar and Lyanna but no Lannisters attempt to take King's Landing, therefore landing Elia with a baby Jon.


I Wander Through a Dream

Rhaegar had never been perfect. Their marriage hadn't been perfect, either. But he'd been good to her. Up until he met Lyanna Stark, then she occupied his mind and Elia did not. Not the woman who had bore him children, but a girl he'd met at the tourney of Harrenhal. Sometimes, Elia wondered if she had done something wrong to make him turn away from her and seek the comfort of another woman. She never mentioned these thoughts to anyone, fearing that they would call her out on her foolishness, or worse yet, tell her that she had done something wrong. She didn't know which was worse.

Though, she supposed it didn't matter now. A guard had heard that Rhaegar had whispered a name before his death and she knew that name wasn't her's. It was Lyanna's. Lyanna who had died in the Tower of Joy. Lyanna who had died in the Tower of Joy from childbirth.

Elia swallowed, the tips of her fingers at her lips. She glanced over her shoulder at the crib at the far side of the room. What was she to do? The child was innocent. He wasn't his father or his mother. She had no quarrel with the child. She could not blame him for her broken heart. That had been her own fault and hers alone.

She remembered when the kingsguard had come back with a child curled in his cloak. He had presented the child to Elia, the only surviving member of the royal household. "His Royal Highness, King Rhaegar of House Targaryen is dead. We found him and Robert of House Baratheon dead by the river. The Lady Lyanna Stark died shortly after giving birth." His eyes had flickered to the child in his arms at that point. "What would you have me do, My Queen?"

It had been at that moment, Elia realized her situation. Her husband, father to her two children, was dead; his lover was dead and now a member of his kingsguard was holding out to her the child that had come from his unfaithfulness. With a shaking voice, she had asked the guard to take the child to the nursery. After he was gone, Elia had collapsed to her chair beside the Iron Throne and wept into her hands. No one disturbed her.

Now she moved over to the crib and slowly lowered herself down to her knees. She tucked her skirts about her and slowly reached into the crib to stroke her fingers across his tiny head. Her throat constricted and she swallowed hard. She closed her eyes tight, her hand dangling lifelessly against the side of the crib. The door to the room creaked open and Elia glanced over, swallowing and blinking to rid her eyes of tears in case it was someone she would need to impress.

Rhaenys' dark Dornish hair fell across her shoulders, seeming even darker than normal against the pale lavender of her dress. "Mama?" she questioned, moving further into the room. Elia shifted and opened her arms and her daughter hurried over and collapsed into them, burying her face against Elia's chest, her head tucked under Elia's chin.

Elia tightened her arms around her daughter, holding her tight to her, leaning her face into Rhaenys' hair and closing her eyes. She wanted to offer comfort to her daughter, but her words of such comfort had all but dried up. She didn't even know how to comfort herself, let alone her little girl. She felt a flash of shame, and her arms tightened once more. What sort of mother - what sort of Queen - was she if she could not even bring comfort to her own daughter in times of need?

Another realization struck hard and knocked her further down into her hole of despair. Aegon, only a babe, would be king but until that time, she was Queen Regent. Rhaegar had been the king and he had acted the part. After Aerys' death nearly a year ago, Rhaegar had risen and the people had loved him more than she had thought possible. Now, he was dead and she was what remained. She, a Dornish princess - Queen - who was out of her element in every way.

A crown was heavy and she was frail. She didn't think she could withstand the weight of such a crown; neither the actual object nor the power it represented. She had always thought that she would be the first to die out of the pair of them, that Rhaegar would rule long after the Seven had come for her. Oh, how she wished she had been right.

She tightened her arms around her daughter, kissing her hair before leaning back to look at her. Her daughter's cheeks were wet with tears and her bottom lip trembled as Elia brushed tenderly at the tracks left on Rhaenys' dark Dornish skin. "It will all be okay, my sweetling," she murmured gently, offering her daughter a sad smile. "Why don't you go ready for sleep?" she suggested gently, "I'll come see you before you fall asleep."

Rhaenys offered a faint nod and walked out of the room, once again leaving Elia alone with the Stark child. She crouched once more at his side and this time, his dark eyes, those of a true Northerner, looked back at her. He reached up with his pudgy fingers and grasped hold of Elia's pointer finger. Emotion welled in the back of her throat and in her eyes and she fought to push it down as the innocent babe pulled her finger into his mouth and sucked at it.

Elia slowly took back her finger and slid her arms beneath him and lifted him. She held him to her chest, bouncing him lightly in her arms, holding in her tears. She hummed a soft melody to him until he fell back asleep. When he was safely in his crib and Elia had kissed Rhaenys and Aegon good night, she went up to the coop and she composed a letter to Dorne. She needed her brother; she needed Oberyn.

There was one person that maybe she wanted more than Oberyn but that person wasn't someone she'd ever see again and she cried herself to sleep in her large, lonely bed.