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An Oath to Keep
Chapter 3
All the way to King's Landing, Rhaegar had imagined how his first meeting with his father would go. He had already exhausted his stock of profanities twice over, calling himself every word for an idiot he knew for not having thought in advance that Brandon Stark would be hotheaded enough to head straight for King's Landing and his father would be insane enough to do something that even their best efforts could not remedy. Even Aerys' fevered imagination could not call him worse than what he called himself. And somehow, he had to convince his father to trust him. He could not tell him about the prophecy, of course, so he had to explain of love and passion and beg for forgiveness and so on. At least the Starks made it clear that it was no joint plan of ours, he thought grimly.
But now, when he was so close to the capital, he found himself unable to bear a meeting with his father right now. They had shortened the time their journey would normally take almost twice; his men were as exhausted as him. Rhaegar felt that he was not fit to deal with his father adequately right now. More than anything, he needed rest.
"Open up for the Prince of Dragonstone!" Arthur Dayne shouted at the guards when they stopped their mounts at the huge gates of the Red Keep. In the light of sunset, its scarlet towers looked as if it were burning, sucking the sun in.
Soon, the gates were opened and the weary company made its entrance into a yard full of…
"Dornishmen," Arthur breathed.
"Impossible," Rhaegar said. "Lewyn cannot have arrived this soon… I cannot imagine…"
"Well, it seems Prince Lewyn's abilities exceed even your great imagination, Your Grace," Arthur said coolly.
Rhaegar sighed. Since that terrible visit at the Tower of Joy something between him and Arthur had broken. Arthur himself looked lost to the world, lost to himself. And that shamed Rhaegar, saving the world or not. He could have done it without involving Arthur but then, he had just assumed that since he was so sure of the prophecy, Arthur would be sure too, that he'd do whatever it took to fulfill it without hesitation. He trusted Arthur more than he did anyone else – but he now realized that he had failed to take the other man's feelings into account. Now, Arthur was usually reverent and reserved, obedient to Rhaegar's orders, trying to keep ahead of them when possible – but he never started conversations and rarely had much to say other than "Yes, my prince," or "No, Your Grace". Their friendship was dissolving in front of Rhaegar's very eyes and he was powerless to stop it. He could order Dorne to do whatever he wished – but he could not force Dornishmen to take Arthur back.
It looked that the Dornish lords had arrived only shortly before they had, for there were still stablehands running to take their lathered horses. Rhaegar was about to give the reigns to his own stallion to the nearest one but the murmur that rose made him rethink.
The grim antipathy hit him like a blow. Up until now, he had never seen a crowd that had not cheered for him but the Dornishmen only gave him the dark looks of their dark eyes. Suddenly, Rhaegar was all too aware how things looked from their perspective: they had been brought here to fight for the very man who had disgraced their princess, not honoured the birth of his own son, making rumours run wild that he would disinherit the boy as his heir. Had the old woman thought the same? She had not mentioned it but she was Elia's grandmother, her late father's mother. As old as she was, Daella was quite sharp and she was a Targaryen princess who had seen her fair share of unlikely accessions. Surely such concerns had run through her head multiple times. Rhaegar did not want to think what had run through Doran Martell's mind.
Was it possible that such thoughts had crossed Elia's mind?
"Come on," he said, in a low voice. "We'll dismount in the second yard."
The murmur soon turned to stony silence, the echo of their horses passing the only sound. Their small company of knights was about to close their ranks around them but Rhaegar held up his hand. He would not hide. Next to him, Arthur stared straight ahead, his face fixed even when someone cried out, "A traitorous snake!" and spat in front of him.
All of a sudden, he knew where he needed to be: he had to make things right with his family. He needed to explain to Elia what had transpired and why, to reassure her that her position was not endangered, to see his Prince Who Was Promised…
Rhaegar gritted his teeth when they had to make their way through a line of guards positioned to every entrance to Elia's apartments. The chambers themselves were eerily silent. Elia's ladies-in-waiting, the noblemen she had brought from Dorne who had served at different offices were now kept in her rooms, just like the Lord Commander had said. There was literally not a single empty chamber, yet no one would look at Rhaegar even when they offered their hasty bows and curtsies. The hatred was radiating off them like cold waves.
The first person they encountered in the very heart of Elia's chambers was the Queen who was also just coming in. Rhaegar was aghast to see how thin and aged she had become. It was as if the life had gone out of her. He did not know it was humanly possible to deteriorate so badly in less than a year.
Rhaella took in his appearance with a single sweep of her eyes. Then, she reached out and took his arm. "I assume that now you finally realize that a grievous wrong has been done," she said. "And I don't mean on your father's part alone. Anyway, it can be sorted out later. For now, Elia needs only peace of mind because of late, her life has not been a happy one and her health is still on the brink. Frankly, I don't know how you can manage it but manage it you will. You'll find a way. I won't have you explaining prophecies and relieving your conscience to feel better about yourself right now." Her fingers, so thin that they might snap any minute now, gripped his arm with surprising strength. "Do you understand me, my son?"
He nodded; she released him and stepped back. "If she falls asleep, call Lady Ashara. You'll find her in the antechamber, probably, unless she's with that poor Uller girl. Elia insists to receive news of her health daily. Or if Lady Ashara isn't there, give her some milk. She still can't eat much, so milk it good for her."
She turned back and headed down a hallway. Then, as if she had just been reminded of something, she looked back. "I am going to see the babe," she said. "I thought you might like to see your son."
Rhaegar nodded again. Arthur hesitated. "Am I free to go now, Your Grace?" he asked.
"I suppose you're anxious to see your sister," Rhaegar said. "And since she's with Elia…"
They followed the Queen to the nursery where a little haired boy grinned hugely as soon as he saw Rhaella; when Rhaegar reached out for him, Aegon clung to his grandmother fearfully. As ridiculous as it was, Rhaegar felt rejected when he knew that, rationally, Aegon would fear him. He had never seen him before. But soon enough, the babe calmed down enough to let Rhaegar take him without crying. He was warm and sweet-smelling, his hair molten silver, his eyes a bright shade of purple. The Prince Who Was Promised. The song of ice and fire. It was next to impossible to imagine that this little boy would one day be the savior of the world, yet Rhaegar had no trouble seeing him as he would become: broad-shouldered, his hair cropped, his eyes even brighter on the sun-bronzed face while all around the Seven Kingdoms, crowds would acclaim him.
He sighed. For now, he had to win for this future to come to pass. He had to face his father and his wife. He couldn't say which one scared him worse.
In Elia's bedchamber, Ashara Dayne rose and her eyes went immediately to Aegon. Rhaegar could feel her suppressing the urge to grab the child from his arms and clutch it protectively even as she dropped into a curtsy. Protectively? Against Aegon's own father?
In the great bed, Elia was asleep. Rhaegar had been notified that the birth had nearly killed her but somehow, he hadn't expected to see her so sick yet. "She lost too much blood," Ashara helpfully informed him. "And some of her joints had been displaced. She can move but sometimes, the pain becomes so strong that she needs some milk of poppy."
"Thank you, my lady," Rhaegar said. "For tending to her so loyally."
Ashara gave him a look of pure puzzlement. "It is my duty," she said curtly. "And I am true to my word, unlike some others I might name."
She had always been cheeky but this time, her impertinence was shocking. Was she so daring because her brother was here? Did she believe that Arthur would protect her from Rhaegar?
Would Arthur cross Rhaegar on her behalf? A few weeks ago, the answer would have been a firm no. Now, Rhaegar didn't know.
Ashara, however, was making a point of not looking at her brother. Since Arthur wouldn't force her into a conversation, Rhaegar decided to help him out. "Is Lord Dayne among the Dornishmen who arrived here under Lewyn's command?" he asked.
Ashara nodded. "He's not quartered in the Red Keep, though," she said. "I wasn't allowed to see him but I think he isn't the best of company right now. He's still dealing with his loss," she added, giving Arthur a very pointed look.
He swallowed, stayed silent. It fell to Rhaegar to ask. He did so, reluctantly, knowing beforehand that whatever it was, it would only cause Arthur further pain. "What loss?" he asked.
"His lady wife passed away about two months ago," Ashara replied. "She… fell down the stairs and broke her neck, it seems. I wanted to go back to Starfall for a while but His Grace did not deem it wise."
Now Lord Dayne's words made sense. His father was keeping the Dornish hostages. Rhaegar blushed with shame.
Ashara went on, her voice suddenly less barbed. "It isn't just that. There are some terrible rumours…"
Her voice faded and Rhaegar looked at her, astounded that she'd be bothered by rumours. Sometimes, he could swear she enjoyed causing them.
Suddenly, Arthur made a step towards his sisters, so his face was now very close to hers. "What do you mean, "terrible rumours"? Have they suspected Arel in regards to Lady Shanai's death?"
There was an ominous silence. Then, Ashara whispered, horrified, "Yes."
Arthur turned pale. Then, he burst out, "That's ridiculous! Those gossipers are a bunch of fools! To suspect Arel in kil…" He seemed to bite his tongue at saying the word.
"They say that he kil…" Ashara stammered because she couldn't say the unthinkable either.
Arthur closed his eyes. Rhaegar knew better than saying something. Aegon felt the tension in the chamber and started mewling. Ashara reached for him but Rhaegar stepped back. The child soon calmed down.
Suddenly, Ashara looked away. Straight at Elia's bed. It seemed that in those long months, she had become attuned to Elia's slightest movements. And sure, just a moment later Elia's eyes cracked open just a slit, then wider. They were dark and burning, yet glassy, somewhere between the haze of dream and the haze of poppymilk. She looked at the window where Ashara stood and a soft smile lit her face. "You are my soul," she murmured dreamily before falling asleep once again, with the smile still on her lips. Rhaegar wondered to what dream she had been talking to. He was relieved that she was still able to dream.
A few minutes later, she opened her eyes once again and they were clear, fixed straight on Rhaegar with surprise, disappointment, anger, betrayal. He never wanted to see this look again.
Behind him, Arthur and Ashara left.
He was now alone with his lady wife – for a first time in almost a year.
