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The Daughter of the Sun
Chapter 2
He was prepared that he'd cause a scandal but he hadn't expected it to be nearly as bad. The Dornish were furious; Oberyn Martell had had to be held down to stop him from killing Rhaegar, he had been told, and he believed it. Everyone wagged their tongues as if he had not given Lyanna Stark a laurel of blue roses but stripped her lovely gown off instead. Elia pleaded illness each time he tried to talk to her. He had already dismissed her servants, twice, but Ashara Dayne had adamantly stayed both times, glowering at him and insisting that she should stay should her lady need her in her condition, and Elia was not about to tell her off. Save for bodily removing the girl, Rhaegar had no chance of staying alone with his wife. And Ashara Dayne would not abide to be quietly removed.
The only bright spot was Lyanna's smile at being given the crown. And Baratheon's rage, of course.
Still, he had not expected Elia to be this unforgiving. It was not like he had repudiated her or something. She was his wife and she'd stay such. She was his child's mother. She had the jewels of the crown, the finest in all Seven Kingdoms. Why did a crown of blue roses matter so much?
He had not realized he had spoken the last words aloud until he met the cool wonder in his best friend's eyes from the other end of the training court. Arthur Dayne did not try to say anything, the more the pity because Rhaegar could really use an answer. "Do you care for a goblet of wine?" he asked tiredly.
"If my lord so wishes," the Sword of the Morning said formally and Rhaegar sighed. That was too much, really. Now Arthur was judging him, too?
"You have spoken to your sister," he guessed.
"Why would you think that? Anyway, if Ashara offended you in any way, I beg your forgiveness."
Rhaegar sheathed his sword. Seeing that the practice was over, Arthur did the same with Dawn. When he tried to go past Rhaegar, the Prince stopped him.
"Have you ever felt such a thing?" he asked softly. "The yearning that grips you and makes you want to turn the world upside down and yet all you can do is present her with a single wreath?"
"Aye," Arthur nodded, "I have."
The answer was so unexpected that Rhaegar stopped his poetic inspiration and stared at the other knight. "You have?"
Arthur Dayne looked annoyed. "Well, yes, just because I don't wave my feelings around for all of the Seven Kingdoms to see, that still doesn't mean I don't have them."
Rhaegar's pale face blushed. "You are my friend," he said. "You are also a member of the Kingsguard. Do not forget that."
As if he could! Yet, he could not help but judge the king and the royal family, if only in his mind alone. "I'll never forget it," he said. "Be sure of that, my lord."
He paused. "But do not ask me to pretend that nothing happened. I am your friend and a sworn brother of the Kingsguard, to my great honour. But I am also Dornish."
It was now that Rhaegar started to realize that things would not be mended as easily as he had previously thought.
Holding her breath, Elia bowed her head, opened the door and went outside, careful to keep her face in the shade of her veil. The dim light of the torches also helped: Jaime Lannister did not spare her a second glance, no doubt thinking her one of the Dornish maids who went in and out of the Princess' chambers at all hours. Now all she had to do was pass through the halls of Harenhall without being noticed. She had seen where guards were posted so it was not too hard.
She had almost reached the garden when she felt that someone was following her. She spun around, her heart in her throat. She barely had the time to curse her sudden bout of impulsiveness when the figure stepped in her view, silvered by the moon. Ser Arthur. "Ah," she breathed. "You scared me!"
"I beg your forgiveness, Princess," he said. "That was never my intention."
With relief came anger, the very same one that had not left her since her public humiliation earlier this day. If anything, Rhaegar had made the matters worse by dancing with her in the hall after dinner. Fuming with anger, she had fought hard to resist the temptation to step on his foot. And the man in front of her, Rhaegar's best friend, had not made things easier either.
"No," she agreed coolly, "you only intended to follow me around without my knowledge and then report to your master."
Her words stung all the more, for she was not usually the one for biting remarks. He said nothing.
"I assume you won't leave me alone?" Elia demanded in fierce whisper.
He shook his head no.
"Very well then, if I can't get rid of you, let's go out into the garden."
They moved with the ease of people used to gardens, although not either of them had been in one for years. They soon found a garden-seat shielded by view of the rest of the garden. Elia sat down and opened her mouth to say something but her anger was somewhat diminished by realizing that he was not wearing his white cloak. He lifted a hand to the tree nearest to the bench and lowered a branch, so the fruit came near her face, almost caressing it. Oranges. They were neither as big nor as fragrant as oranges at home but she still wanted to weep. She often dreamed of the orange trees back in the water gardens and woke up with a heavy heart, full of yearning. Now, she breathed the fruit in.
He picked an orange off and peeled it, then held out a hand. She took a slice and ate it. Then, she smiled faintly. "Thank you," she said, and he shrugged and took a slice himself.
"I just needed to clear my head off," she finally said. "I would have died otherwise. Something like purging."
"So I thought," he agreed.
She gave him a bold look. "Had we been at King's Landing, I would have sought a different kind of purging," she said. "I would have found a man for the purpose."
Now, he finally looked shocked. She smiled. It felt good to remember that she was Elia of Dorne and not just the royal brood mare she had been acting for so long. Now she only needed to implement it to the others. Ser Arthur Dayne was a good start.
"Princess!" he spluttered.
She smiled again, satisfied by his reaction. "That's what my brother would have done in my place, is it not?"
"Prince Oberyn, yes," he agreed. "But Prince Doran would not have been this rush."
She glared at him. In her maid's robe and veil, she looked every inch a queen. "Rush!" she hissed. "I've been nothing but un-rush for all these years and look what it got me. I am so tired of it."
But the worst part was still ahead of her. She still needed to give the Seven Kingdoms an heir. She was tied to Rhaegar and could not even deny him her bed, although the very idea of marital closeness made her sick.
"Arthur!"
She spoke the name of her childhood companion from the water gardens in the intimate voice from long ago.
"You were once my friend before you became his. I hate making you break the trust he has placed in you and yet I must know. Has he confided in you? Does he mean to set me aside and take the wolf-girl in my stead?"
He shook his head. For the last few hours he had searched his memory for everything that could give him an inkling of Rhaegar's intentions and he could find none. It had been obviously a spur of the moment thing. Arthur did not believe that Rhaegar even had an idea about the full implications of this impulsive gesture. "No, Princess. He hasn't spoken to me and I don't believe it was ever his intention to disturb you, let alone cast you aside. He just…" His voice faded.
"He was just besotted with the woman-child," Elia finished for him.
That could not be denied.
"Is she so very beautiful?" she asked. "I cannot say for myself, for obvious reasons."
Her smile, full of irony to herself and the world, could cut through a stone.
"You said it yourself," Arthur said. "She does have a certain charm, like any wolf. Yet all wolves bow to the sun."
"Somehow, I have my doubts about this one," Elia muttered.
"Never doubt it, Princess," Arthur said. "Beauty, and wits, and a lineage like yours – these things combine so rare. Only a fool would not begrudge the Prince such a wife."
"Are you a fool?"
He recoiled as if she had struck him. They had never talked about this, not once in all her years in Westeros.
"Be quiet, Princess." His voice was lower than usual and strangely vibrating. "It was the Prince I owe this white cloak to whom you wed..."
"You must have known that it was never Rhaegar whom I wanted to wed…" Elia's voice was also lower than usual and also strangely vibrating. "You must have known, you must… And yet you stood there in that cursed white cloak and watched… But you couldn't quite smile, could you?"
"What could I have done?" he demanded. "Abduct you, maybe? Destroy my own House, as well as yours? Throw the Seven Kingdoms in a war? Princesses of Dorne do not marry sons of lesser houses. And I had already taken my vows. What could I have done?"
"Obviously, only what you are doing right now," she snapped. "You can stay the perfect knight, and I, the princess. Only, you weren't so perfect this very night, were you? With that Hightower girl…"
She was glad when he looked aside. "I… well, what can I say? She was pretty and she was looking at me…"
Suddenly, Elia wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. It seemed that every man she encountered this evening felt the urge to explain his deviations to her. Oh they cared so very much. Only, they never cared enough not to hurt her in the first place. She almost looked around, expecting Jaime Lannister to make an appearance and beg her forgiveness for letting her leave on her own.
Her mirth disappeared as suddenly as it had come. The memory of the time before Westeros, before Rhaegar, came back and refused to leave. It was the garden, the fact that they were alone here in the night as they had been years ago, far away in Sunspear. It was almost like a dream that had happened so far ago, that had never been real. Almost.
"I could not say whether she was looking at you," she said quietly, "for the truth is, I watch you myself. There is no room for her or another one for me to see."
She did not expect him to reply, so she was surprised when he did. "I know," he said softly. "I watch also…"
There was nothing to be said or done anymore. Arthur took her hand to his lips and held it longer than necessary. She sighed. As strange as it was, she felt engulfed by a sudden happiness. Everything was still there, of course – the whispers, the betrayal, the loss of trust, the Stark girl. But today, for first time in years, she was closer to herself than to the image of a perfect Targaryen princess. She had denied her husband's wish to talk. She had donned Dornish garments again, so she could actually breathe without the restraints of her gown. She had snuck in the garden and ate an orange straight from the tree. She had had a quarrel – sort of – with Arthur Dayne. Not the Sword of the Morning of the Kingsguard but Arthur Dayne of Starfall. All these things were so Elia. Elia was coming back…
She knew it was just elation caused by nerves and exhaustion. But it was a nice one. While she was still riding it, she thought over the question she had always avoided asking herself: why was it Arthur Dayne whom she felt drawn to so much? He was not as handsome as Rhaegar; he did not possess the perky wittiness she so enjoyed in Jaime Lannister. He did not sing of the dark eyes and the perfect skin of the most beautiful woman in the world, like many others did. By all measures, she should have forgotten about her youthful infatuation long ago, and yet…
Everyone in Westeros thought her weak because of her poor health. Rhaegar saw her as broken. Arthur saw her as beautiful. Everyone else looked down on her for her constant illnesses but Arthur – like Ashara – was in awe of her ability to overcome all of them. He saw her like the sun – warming, dazzling, and fighting. Never bending. Always rising.
It would take more than dragons and wolves to crush the daughter of the sun.
This time, Ser Jaime recognized her. She could see it in his eyes even from the opposite end of the hall. She nodded to Arthur that she was already safe, lifted her chin and went straight past the young knight to her door when something in his face made her stop dead in her tracks. She slowly made a step back. „What is it, Ser Jaime?" she asked. He was the newest addition to the Kingsguard and she had yet to take his measure but what she had seen so far, she liked. But now he was watching her as if she were a stranger and Elia felt it was not only due to her untypical attire.
He surprised her further by saying, "My lady…"
"Yes?" she encouraged him. They were both whispering.
"You are a great princess."
She felt like laughing. "Where did that come from, Ser Lion?"
He did not answer. He only bowed at her. A formal bow, very low. One that was due to a true and great princess.
A. N. Well, I did it. It suddenly occurred to me that even neglected by Rhaegar, Elia could still have been loved and sought by other men. Knowing what we know of her family, it isn't that hard to imagine that although not quite to Rhaegar's liking, she might have had an allure for others. As far as I can tell, there is not a member of the House of Martell who lacks any appeal – and yes, I include Doran here, for he was not always old and sick with gout. I really doubt that Elia was the first. After all, we saw what everyone thought of Doran and then – ha! – he actually made an appearance and everything became so different. Elia could not have been all pitiable, right?
