Elia Martell was in many ways like the sun - warm and bright, yet dangerous once stared at for too long.
Rhaegar Targaryen was more like the moon - pale and shifting, and would only be seen because it reflected the sun's light.
Rhaegar Targaryen had studied the stars for enough time to know that the moon was a fraud, much like himself. The Dragon Prince had no light of his own. Perhaps that was why he was being punished.
—
At a very young age, Rhaegar was said to have an old soul. He would not play, nor run, like a regular child. He very much preferred to sit alone and read, read from the break of dawn to the nightfall, read until his eyelids became heavy with fatigue and his mind dizzy from sleep deprivation.
Prince Rhaegar had spent most of his youth believing that there was something about him - he could not explain such feeling, though, and a few years would pass by before he would be able to properly name it: emptiness.
While growing up, Rhaegar had frantically searched for an answer to his troubles through the pages of books and parchments, until he finally found the guidance he was looking for. Azor Ahai. The prince that was promised. Rhaegar knew then he had to mature, so he did. He traded the books for swords and the candles for shields. He became a fine warrior, as expected, being knighted at the age of seventeen. He exceeded at all his endeavors.
Still, Rhaegar was uneasy.
—
His marriage with one Elia Martell was not born out of love, but of duty. Neverthless, it was a better marriage than Rhaegar could have ever hoped for.
Elia was a fine companionship. They would talk about all sorts of things. She truly listened to him when he spoke and gave thought to the matters he exposed to her. She gave him advices, good ones. She shared stories of small pleasures. She filled the cold rooms of Dragonstone with laughter and joy and music - and if there was a thing that Rhaegar cherished, that thing was music. He quickly grew accustomed of her presence, secretly yearning for it. Truth be told, being around Elia was like a breath of fresh air. She was the definition of life itself.
She also made him feel less lonely.
Not to mention her beauty - he would have to be blind not to notice. Whenever she entered a room, she made necks turn. Her Dornish looks were a sight to behold, with that brown skin of hers, her perfect silhouette, her long dark hair and exotic eyes. Each time he visited her chambers, he would discover a new thing about her. And he would be surprised of just how much he enjoyed it.
Rhaegar truly believed that with time, he could have grown to love her.
If he were capable of love, that is.
Rhaegar somewhat knew love. He had seen it on another people's eyes, he had read about it, he had sung about it. But he had never truly felt it. Nor would he. Because in order to be in love, he knew he would have to allow it to fulfill him. He would have to give up control. And Rhaegar could never do that. If he were any other man, he might. For someone like Elia, he probably might. But he was not any other men, he thought. He was so much more than a man. He had a mission, a purpose. His blood was the blood of old Valyria, the blood of dragons and gods. He was the prince that was promised.
Or so he thought.
—
First, Elia gave him his Rhaenys. She was an exact copy of her mother - her Dornish beauty
indistinguishable -, except for her eyes. His eyes. Targaryen eyes. Rhaegar was exultant with his firstborn. Aerys, more suspicious with each passing day, had sneered at Rhaenys at her birth, and that only made Rhaegar more resentful of this mad man. The thought that his father was becoming more dangerous and he would have to take his place sooner than later was eating him alive.
Rhaegar was growing concerned.
The dragon must have three heads.
Even though Elia's pregnancy was not an easy one and Rhaegar did worry about her health, he was anxious for his second head. He bedded her as soon as the maesters had allowed it and soon enough she was with child.
Aegon.
Born the night a comet was seen, born amidst smoke and salt.
Aegon was the prince that was promised, not him. Suddenly, everything made sense. And suddenly, it became even more urgent for Rhaegar to have a third child. His Visenya.
The dragon must have three heads.
Unfortunately, Elia would not bear any more children. Much to Rhaegar's despair, Elia had almost died when giving birth to their second son, and the all the maesters in the kingdom were firm to say she would not survive a third pregnancy.
Rhaegar would not kill his wife. He was not a murderer. He simply would have to find another way.
—
Unbent, unbowed, unbroken. She would endure.
Still, Rhaegar was restless.
—
No matter what he did, he couldn't make up for Harrenhall.
He had told Elia everything about the prophecy, every detail he had never shared with anyone before. He told her the girl did not matter to him, that it could have been any other woman. He assured her it was never about love.
Rhaeger had never begged, but he begged her to listen to him.
She did not believe him. Nor did she care.
Rhaegar felt alone, completely alone, for the first time since they married.
Elia, once warm and loving, was ice cold now. Rhaegar was so used to have Elia understand him and support him, that he had forgotten she was a viper of Dorne. She had her pride, and her temper. Now she was painfully reminding him of that.
It was like Lyanna Stark was the Earth, placing herself between them, blocking the sun's light. And without the sun's light, the moon was nowhere to be seen.
Rhaegar felt himself slowly fading.
He locked himself on the library for days, not even wanting to see his children. Barely eating. Troubled. Sleepless. He could feel his somehow happy marriage slipping through his fingers, and he so wanted to grasp it. Rhaegar knew he had hurt Elia irrevocably and he had no idea how to remedy it. He wanted to get back to how they used to be, yet he knew something was lost forever.
Rhaegar was growing tired.
He was at a crossroad, but the dragon must have three heads.
The prophecy must be fulfilled. For his daughter. For his son. For his kingdom.
Elia would understand. She would have to.
Days became weeks and weeks became months. Rhaegar could feel his sanity slowly leaving him. Perhaps he was just as mad as his father, he thought. Perhaps the apple doesn't fall far from the tree at all.
—
Rhaegar never said goodbye to Rhaenys and Aegon, because Rhaegar never fathom he wouldn't see them again.
And the last time Rhaegar called for Elia, she did not turn her head.
Rhaegar felt hopelessness.
—
Rhaegar had wooed the she wolf maiden. Rhaegar had asked her to run with him. Rhaegar had married her, and bedded her.
He thought of Elia, the pain he had caused her and still, he wished she would miss him. 'Is that not selfish?', he thought. 'Would I not be the most dreadful of creatures?'
He felt something twitch at his stomach. Perhaps it was sadness?
There was no time for such thoughts.
The dragon would have his third head.
—
As Lord Baratheon's hammer hit him, Rhaegar thought of his children. How he would never live to see their faces again. How he would never see them grow up. He could only hope they would live long lives.
He thought of Lyanna Stark, and how she was just a wild but innocent girl, and how he took advantage of her and manipulated her feelings. He hoped she would also have a good life.
Last, he thought of Elia, the woman he gave up because he believed that he was sacrificing everything for a purpose greater than himself. For a brief moment, Rhaegar regretted every decision that led him there. He only wished Elia could forgive him, and he prayed for the old gods and the new ones for Elia to have the happiest of lives.
Rhaegar wondered if that was what love felt like.
It felt bitter.
He murmured her name, and let darkness engulf him.
—
A/N: Hello, guys! This is my first ASOIaF fic. Please, tell me what you think, all comments are appreciated!
I am completely obsessed with Robert's Rebellion right now, and with S8 coming, I thought I would give this pairing a try. I am also a firm believer that Elia and her children deserved better.
I don't care much for Rhaegar x Lyanna right now, but I used to ship them - which is odd. But then again, I don't believe Rhaegar kidnapped her, I think she went willingly.
Also, English is not my first language and this fic is not betaed yet. Be kind and let me know if I had any misspellings. Thank you!