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A Seashell in the Tide

Touch of Sun

The next time Daenaera met Lewyn Martell, she was thirty one and attempting to break through a door without hurting the person behind it. A nursemaid and two servants anxiously shifted their weight as they waited for someone to arrive with the ax that they, of course, could not use because – the person inside.

By now Daenaera honestly wished to the Seven that she had just stayed in her chambers for a day longer to recover from the journey. Instead, she had opted for spending time with her young nephew and that was what she was doing now – behind the different sides of the door.

"Doran," she tried again, trying to speak calmly. "Would you open the door?"

"No!"

For a moment, she tried to think that she had not heard him right. He had seen barely two namedays. Surely he had some trouble speaking clearly? He must have said, "Yes". And this was definitely not glee that she had detected in his voice. Not at all.

Who was she jesting with? Sighing, she turned around hoping to see the servant with the promised ax. Instead, she found herself face to face with Lewyn Martell, now towering over her. In spite of the situation, she felt warmth inside as he recognized her immediately and smiled. "I didn't know you were here," he said. "I'm just arriving from the desert."

Daenaera smiled back. "That was not how I imagined my first days in Sunspear," she admitted and his smile widened.

"He locked you out?" he guessed and she laughed a little.

"How do you know? I swear, I left him alone just for a moment as I spoke to Lady Wyll…"

Lewyn didn't answer. Instead, he went to the door and made a great show of tapping and rattling. Then, he shook his head helplessly, just when the ax arrived. Daenaera raised a hand to stop everyone from coming near or talking. She didn't know what Lewyn had in mind but she was definitely interested. He was still smiling.

"That was very good, Doran," he said calmly. "Can you show me how you did this?"

Impossible! Doran would not believe such an obvious trick, would he? A moment later, Daenaera realized that no matter how smart he was, he was just two. Of course he'd believe it. He was so proud of himself that he truly wanted to show his uncle how clever he was. A moment later, they were inside and Daenaera glared at the latch that was totally innocent in all this.

"Does he do that often?" she asked when Lewyn had been shown how Doran had pushed a footstool to the door and climbed on it to do the latch.

Lewyn just shrugged and indicated that she should listen to the child talking to his toys. One of them was stomping its feet on the floor and screaming and the other snapped that it should stop it. Then, it grabbed the first toy and held it immobile. "You'll stay here until you learn to stand in one place," it said angrily, in such a good imitation that Daenaera grinned.

"Alric?" she whispered, and Lewyn nodded.

"They are in the palace sept, I think. But watch him, it becomes more interesting …"

Indeed, the Alric toy still held the other captive. The second one didn't promise that it would behave, though, because…

"Your time is limit. My isn't."

Daenaera gasped. "He understands the concept of time?"

"And that Alric's is limited," Lewyn confirmed. "His own isn't, so he usually outlasts most of his parents' punishments. We'll just have to wait for him to grow conscience. The fact that he's smart enough to take information and understand it doesn't mean he knows what to do with it." He scowled. "That's Arianne and Alric's fault. They wanted a child who would be very smart. They hadn't reckoned in the fact that cleverness without self-restraint is not a good thing. And he's too young for self-restraint."

Daenaera considered this. An overly smart child didn't look like such a great thing, indeed. But she wouldn't mind one. She wouldn't mind any kind of child. Just as long as she had one. Not that this was going to happen.

"Have you seen Arianne?" she asked sharply, cutting herself off those thoughts.

Lewyn nodded. "As soon as I came. She'll get better."

"Of course she will," Daenaera agreed, trying to sound confidently. Arianne had just lost a babe, a second one, in a chamber of blood and sobs. A miscarriage. An early one.

For a while, they were silent, watching Doran and his toys.

"I have to host the arrival of the Tyroshi delegation tonight," Lewyn suddenly said. Under those circumstances, Daenaera wasn't surprised. That was probably the reason they had summoned him from the desert. Not that she had asked out of genuine interest to his whereabouts, of course. "To be the Martell who welcomes them. Would you want to sit with me? Play hostess?"

Daenaera hesitated. Something in her screamed that she was starting something that she might not know how to get out of. But he was so grown up now, entirely different from the cocky boy he had been a few years ago. He was well-mannered, nice and didn't press her. Why not? It wasn't as if she'd be expected to do anything but spread her charm around. The festivities had already been planned.

"I would be happy to do so," she said and the joy crossing his face was so vibrant that the alarmed voice in her head howled again. She paid it no mind.

This time, it was very different. His courtship of her was discreet – so discreet that she could easily reject it with a single, soft word. But she didn't say it. She quite liked their little flirtation and the feelings it stirred within her breast – and some other parts. He recommended books from the library dating back from the times of Valyria, accompanied her to the Water Gardens and back, arranged the daily entertainments he took care to learn she liked. At the feasts, she sat next to him and watched the people in the hall whispering, trying to guess if there was something between the two of them. No one could claim that there was, everything was so measured, unlike his undisguised admiration and blatant attempts to seduce her in everyone's sight six years ago.

"I heard you've filled in for me quite admirably," Arianne said one night when a small company was sitting in her solar in the Water Gardens. Lewyn and Daenaera had come from Sunspear; Mikkel and his lady Isanne had arrived straight from Salt Shore.

Daenaera looked up. "I have?"

She looked so surprised that Arianne laughed. "Didn't you know?"

Was that what she had been doing? Filling in for the heiress of Dorne? Prince Mors and Princess Carissa were at King's Landing; Alric devoted all his time to Arianne in her slow, painful recovery. Lewyn fulfilled his sister's duties in ruling as well as his own. Where did this leave Daenaera? She was not quite ready to answer this question.

The light slowly faded and even the voices of the children grew more subdued. Somehow, Daenaera had never thought that they could ever get tired. The pale sunlight lent some colour to Arianne's pale cheeks, disguising the terrifying emaciation. Daenaera had heard that this miscarriage had almost drained her dry of blood, more than what was typical for such instances.

"Are you coming back to Sunspear next week?" Daenaera asked carefully and saw how both Lewyn and Alric tensed, expecting Arianne's reply.

Her goodsister wasn't quick to answer. "Perhaps," she said. "I don't know."

Silence and doom filled the chamber and then Lewyn determinedly put an end to that mood. "I am going rowing tomorrow," he announced. "A trip to the Isle of Dreams. Someone care to join me?"

His eyes were on Daenaera as he was saying it. Instinctively, she wanted to decline but when she looked away, she saw something so amazing that she just forgot about that. Isanne was shaking her head firmly and giving her looks like, "Don't you dare!" Isanne, her goodsister from the Vale. Isanne who still had trouble accommodating to Dornish ways and what she saw as lack of morals. Daenaera was so stunned that she actually thought about the proposal. Why not?

"We are," Mikkel replied and gave Alric a quick look. Then, everyone looked at Arianne who slowly shook her head, so Alric declined as well.

She must start living, Daenaera thought and wondered if this was what the rest of them thought about her.

"I could live there till the end of my life," Daenaera said, looking back at the island. Isle of Dreams, indeed. It was certainly something that looked as if it had come out of her dreams, blue and wrapped in shimmering mist. The flimsy dress was still clinging to her, the hem heavy with water. Her hair was matted by swimming and she felt happier than she had in years.

"I could not," Lewyn said from behind the row. "I love it but it's too quiet. Way too peaceful."

"You would last a day, though, I think," Mikkel said from his row.

Lewyn looked offended. "I'd last two if you please!"

Daenaera laughed.

Their small trip ended right in Sunspear since Lewyn was needed there early the next morning. That took about two hours more and when the Old Palace appeared in view, Isanne and Daenaera looked at each other in horror. It was so far away…

Unfortunately, they were recognized which only delayed their arrival. People shouted as enthusiastically for Lewyn as they had for King Aegon when Daenaera had been young. She smiled a little sadly, remembering her grandfather. Competent and caring, Maekar Targaryen had not been loved. He simply didn't have the gift of drawing people to him that Aegon and Lewyn had.

"What's wrong?" Mikkel asked.

"Nothing," Daenaera lied and tried to chase the pulsing in her head away.

"Are you hungry?" her brother asked. "I know I am."

Daenaera nodded and then realized that Lewyn had noticed the gesture.

"We won't reach the palace any time soon," he said. "But I think I can fix the situation…"

He looked around and before Daenaera knew what was going on, he headed for the stalls with open furnaces at their left. Just by turning her head, Daenaera took in the enticing aroma of a small cake filled with something. Her mouth watered.

Lewyn smiled at the old woman behind the stall and reached for his pouch. "May I have two?" he asked.

She only gaped at him, stunned. Daenaera realized that she was doing the same only when the woman was faster than her in closing her mouth.

"The Prince wants cakes!" a child cried excitedly, tugging her by the arm, and the woman startled into action, filling the loaf with some meat and rolling it in cheese.

"Thank you," Lewyn said politely, taking the cakes.

Daenaera bit at one without hesitation and felt the taste of grape and chicken. And honey! It was incredibly tasty. Next to her, Lewyn had attacked his own cake. Then, they realized the silence around them. Lewyn turned to the crowd, grinned, and said cheerfully, "It's good!"

The crowd roared with delight.

"How do you do it?" Daenaera asked a few hours later, sitting at the terrace overlooking the sea. "They love you so much. All of you."

The young man considered this and shrugged. "I am not sure," he said. "I suppose it's a family thing. But being liked is no substitute for being competent."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Do you ever regret being born second?" she asked curiously. "Anywhere else, you would have inherited."

"Never," Lewyn said without hesitation. "Duties and responsibilities are hard enough as they are. I wouldn't want Arianne's for the world." He paused. "Or the world peeking under her sheets."

There was anger in his voice. They both knew that the rumours about Arianne's barren womb were already spreading, making it worse than it was.

"I cannot imagine how the rest of Westeros can be so stupid," he said after a while, staring out at the stars. "Depriving women of their rights just because they're women."

Daenaera would have lied if she said she hadn't thought about inheriting Driftmark. She was older than Alyn. And the way things were, when he had died without heirs, she had lost against their distant cousins, so the line of Corlys Velaryon and the Queen Who Never Was had lost Driftmark forever.

"Women are deprived of a good deal of things just by being women," she said bitterly. She could not imagine a man staying for fourteen years in the sham of marriage that had been forced on her. Her hatred for the husband who didn't mistreat her in any other way was growing by the day.

The look in Lewyn's eyes told her that he knew what she meant.

The next morning, they awoke together in a tangled web of sheets. Daenaera moved her head slightly to release the hair pressed under his bare back but he rolled over and she found herself captive to her own silver locks. That seemed to amuse him because he laughed and held her closer. "Come here, and I'll let you go," he said.

She scowled but did as she was bid. To her surprise and indeed, relief, he didn't try to heap his passion on her. Instead, he spread a hand across her belly rubbing it. "Does it hurt much?" he asked.

"No," Daenaera said, not quite sure if it was true.

"Next time, it would be better," he promised. "And in a week, you won't even remember that it used to hurt."

Daenaera gave him a look of doubt, hiding her relief that there would be another time after all. She was probably the clumsiest companion Lewyn had ever taken to his bed. A thirty-one year old maiden!

"I'll keep you to this," she said lightly.

"I hope you will." His hand came up, caressing the hollow between her breasts and then her neck, the line of her jaw, her cheek. "I didn't really expect that you'd be… I mean, I know there are men who aren't interested in women or sex at all. King Aerys was one such. But I still couldn't believe that about that disgusting Bracken."

Daenaera curled up against him and laughed a little. "Why disgusting? He won't be a bad lord. He didn't commit any crime but make me unhappy…"

"That's what I'm talking about!" he explained and she realized that she was feeling like a young girl when she was anything but.

Her return to Stone Hedge was marked by the breath of the Stranger: Lord Bracken was on his deathbed. Daenaera couldn't really say she was sorry. He had never treated her badly but he had never been warm to her and his desire for her had been evident. One threat less to fear…

"I'd like for you to provide your brother with a home of his own," she told Lothar as soon as the mourning period was over and his immediate agreement filled her with rage because it indicated that he knew what had been going on, the harassment his brother had subjected her to, the fact that she had had to bodily push Jonos away more than once – with the Mallister boy's help once, even! - and he had done nothing. Not only did he fail as a man in bed, he failed at his other manly duties as well. She was supposed to be under his protection and he had provided her none. She looked down immediately, lest the vent her anger.

Lewyn would have never let anyone treat his wife like this, she thought. But Lewyn would make sure that everyone knew his wife was his wife in everything, wouldn't he? The thought of him ever getting wed upset her, so she focused on their ten months together where everyone important in his life had known that she was his woman and from her silvery head to her bare feet she had been a woman loved.

Lady Alyssa only shook her head sadly, making no attempt to defend her youngest. The explanation of the evil surrounding Daenaera might be a comforting one but the results were grim all the same. She didn't want a scandal. And it wasn't as if her son was going into exile or something.

Daenaera's goodsister, though, took it quite differently. The day they were to leave the castle, she lost her nerve and started screaming about harlots, seven hells, and the hunger of empty womb. In the great hall, where everyone could hear. Lothar only looked away, pretending to be deaf. Naturally! Lady Alyssa murmured something which the other woman ignored.

"You aren't yourself, sister," Daenaera said coldly. "Have a cup of tea and compose yourself. Aren't you happy that you'd have a home of your own?"

Lady Mylandra laughed shrilly. "It won't be forever," she promised. "One day, I'll return as a mistress of this place. For all your cursed beauty, you lack something in bed if you cannot attract your lord husband but only Dornish animals…"

For a long, terrible moment Daenaera feared that Mylandra had somehow come to know. She and Lewyn had become rather careless at the end. Even Prince Mors had lost patience and more than once, she had heard him barring his son's way to her chamber. Their quarrels had become fiercer – Mors angry, Lewyn even angrier. Your passion for her is more than I can put up with, the Prince had spat. Had someone else heard?

She gave her goodsister a look of utter boredom. "Are you done?" she asked contemptuously. "Very well. Leave, then!"

Mylandra didn't move. Jonos smirked. Daenaera realized that just a moment later, she'd be a subject to new ridicule. She could not make them leave. No one here would obey her wishes with Lothar present and impassive. Her shame would only grow…

"My lady," a soft voice said. The young Mallister, Patrek, the one who was always deferent and eager to do things for her. She had been amused and touched to find out that she had been an object of infatuation to a boy of fourteen when she had been twenty seven herself. Since the moment her goodfather had fostered him, he had been smitten with her, trailing after her like a puppy. He had grown out of his puppish ways but not his wish to do things for her. "I believe Lady Bracken asked you to leave."

To Daenaera's great amazement, that finally stirred Lothar into action, albeit a small one: he nodded and his brother and goodsister were taken out of the great hall, Mylandra still shrieking. Daenaera stared after them and thought of Lewyn. She had no doubt she'd be allowed to visit her mother soon. Just because their station had changed, that didn't mean that Lothat had changed. And she fully intended to take what she could out of life before it threw her in a new seastorm.