Choosing Pride

A Hopeful Autumn

Has he gone mad, Maekar wondered before shaking his head and smiling sardonically. It was Rhaegel that he was thinking about. He had been born mad!

Three years into his absence from King's Landing, his brother's letters kept coming, not as regularly as Aelinor's missives to the girls but quite often. They were normal – well, normal for Rhaegel, anyway – and often cheerful. Maekar answered in kind, wondering whether Rhaegel had even realized what had happened. I hope he hasn't. Sometimes, Maekar wondered whether being mad didn't have some good sides to it, like being able to perceive only what one wanted to. Still, he wasn't sure how much of it was true ignorance and how much just a determination not to acknowledge the reality of the situation on Rhaegel's part. More than once, Maekar had caught his brother in such pretensions meant to repair relationships within the family and more than once, Rhaegel had surprised him by achieving his aim in this way. Whatever it was this time, he was not willing to cut this sole link leading him directly to those in King's Landing.

But this letter was different. No ramblings. Not a trace of cheerfulness. Instead, a very firm… err, suggestion that Maekar invited their sister to visit him in Summerhall where the air and climate might make a welcome change for her. Because, you see, Aelinor was badly exhausted and her health frailer than any person outside their closest circle would think. She had been overexerting herself with fulfilling her duties without any respite. Ah, the good old times when Maekar had been spending a part of the day with her and Rhae and Daella had taken quite a big share of her attention but in a good way – unlike her many current undertakings! In all this – the not quite written but abundantly clear accusation that Maekar had left Aelinor to her own devices. As if he was responsible for her decisions. As if he had taken the girls and himself away with the specific purpose of making her miserable. But indeed, now it was not the time to take offense. If Rhaegel's sunny disposition and determined will to see the best in everyone had failed him, the situation was probably just as bad as he perceived it – or even worse. It was one of Rhaegel's peculiarities – he was unusually attuned to the emotions of those around him, always looking for a way to make things better.

Outside, a golden autumn finally gave some relief from the heat of the years of summer. Maekar shook his head, as if he wanted to push both Rhaegel and the letter away and went to the window. Many years ago, as they had started turning the castle into a home of their own, Naeryn had insisted that he took for a study a room that overlooked a splendid garden of chestnut trees and exotic bushes that his mother had once had brought from Dorne. He had accepted without thinking too much and now, he thought with gratitude about her, about her way of feeling things without giving too many words to her perceptions. The sight and aroma of the garden was always a reprieve from the tiring and disheartening business that was conducted in this study ever so often.

He had no doubt that Aelinor was tiring herself into oblivion. She was very dutiful and strove to fulfill her obligations in a way exceeding all that could be reasonably expected. And with the way things with Aerys were going, she probably used duties as an outlet for the pain of her disappointment. Maekar was now sure that Aerys wouldn't come around to fathering an heir in the year or two Aelinor still had… if she did, in fact, have them. If she was lucky enough to conceive at that age if Aerys finally decided that it was worth a try. But being frail? Ill? That, he couldn't quite believe. Aelinor had always been a picture of health, almost never getting ill and when she did, beating even the most optimistic expectations with the speed of her recovery.

But she had been having troubles walking as early as three years ago, when he had left. Was it possible that she now experienced physical pain on a regular basis? Fifteen years ago, the maesters had warned that this might be the case one day. The thought of her lonely, sick, and desperate made him ache with pain he hadn't felt for years. Aelinor had been one or another of those things at a time. Never the three of them together. Maybe Rhaegel just knew that if he made Maekar believe that she suffered all of those now, that would break his pride and make him reach out, close the precipice that was hurting all of them. You're wrong, brother. I am not willing to pretend that nothing happened. I was never the one to sail under false colours. I have more pride than this.

Now, his daughters came in the garden to pick some fallen leaves in glorious autumn gold and red. He smiled at watching their animated discussion – of which leaves they should collect, he supposed, because they were looking at them with expressions of deep reflection. He supposed that they would take some of them in their own rooms and others would find their way to bowls in his chambers, an artful decoration. One that Naeryn would have liked. And Aelinor, as well, he remembered. As a child, she had collected fallen leaves each time autumn came. And finally, as he watched the girls wrapped up in their occupation, he had to admit that he had deprived his sister of something that, strictly speaking, had never been hers but was precious beyond words.

She arrived in a soft evening a month later. The sun announced its retiring in the most splendid way, spreading a translucent veil of the most blinding shimmer over the hills, their grass, the autumn flowers. At the two sides of the roads, smallfolk had gathered to gawk at the magnificence of the royal party, the guards riding in the head of the column, and the litter in red and black with the dragon roaring at their gawking. The coins spread liberally in the procession's wake made the excitement grow.

The sight of the litter made Maekar sigh with both irritation and relief. If Aelinor had chosen to travel alternating horse and litter, she could not be as fragile as he had feared. Rhaegel had just used his weakness, his secret vulnerable spot – that was clearly not so secret after all! Did everyone know? Did Aerys?

All thoughts of Rhaegel and his manipulations vanished from his head as soon as he came near and Aelinor made her first steps after her Kingsguard shadow had assisted her out of the litter. The man was quite young and vaguely familiar but Maekar couldn't pin a name to his face. Right now, he didn't care either. The careless generosity of the sun accentuated Aelinor's terrible gauntness, the pallor of her complexion, the deep orbs that her eyes had become. Such was the delicacy of her skin that the small blood vessels drew dark lines underneath. The beating of the pulse at the side of her throat was also quite visible and Maekar felt pain just by watching her. What have I done?

But the eyes that met his were all but vulnerable. They stared at him without flinching, with haughtiness and pride reflecting his own. The only difference was that she was smiling when he could not force himself to. Women thought they should smile even at the ones they wanted to devour. And in this moment, Maekar realized that she had not come to him on her own will. Why should she? He was not the only one who had pride and it stood close to reason that with all his betrayals of her, she had finally had too much. He was surprised that Aerys and Rhaegel had managed to convince her at all to undertake this journey. In her shoes, he would have never given someone who had disappointed him so repeatedly another look.

But it's easy for me to say so, he realized as he saw her looking around eagerly. I've had all the things that make life worth living. I might have lost many of them but I did have them. I had a good marriage; I do have children who, disappointing or satisfying, made me happy. What has she had? The memory of the bloodied linens in her bed all those years ago stung him yet again. A lifetime of disappointments did make one more pliable. No matter her feelings for him, she wanted to see Daella and Rhae.

After bowing at her, he took her hand and raised it to his lips. Even her fingers were cold, bloodless, conveying hopeless. He didn't dare actually press his lips against them but still he felt a flickering disappointment when she didn't move her hand up for an actual kiss either. Was it how it was going to be from now on? All of a sudden, he only wished to hold her close and say that it hadn't been his fault, that he hadn't known, to beg her forgiveness and plead with her to let him near once again. It was not about love alone. She had always been the only member of his family whom he felt completely at ease with, the only one he had relied to want him no matter what – and she had, even after Ashford. He had counted on this desire to overcome whatever wrongs life forced him to do her. He couldn't explain why, he just had – too boldly, maybe.

"I hoped to see the girls," Aelinor finally said, still looking around. "Aren't they here?"

"They are," he replied. "I don't know why they haven't come yet. Come on, let's get you some refreshments."

By the look of her, he doubted she ate much more than a child. How had the maesters let her come to this?

"Let's go," Aelinor replied and despite her attempt to hide it, he heard the weariness in her voice, the effort that she had put into making a journey that once been a joyous activity. They had always loved coming here as children, whenever their grandfather's malicious will would let them a brief reprieve from their forced life in the capitol. They had fought every attempt to be contained to a litter even for a day, even for an hour – they had wanted to watch, as long as there had been light.

Preparations had been made for the Queen's arrival and Aelinor played her part magnificently, smiling and unfailingly polite. She even looked happy to see Daeron, for once completely sober and quite pleased to see her, as well. Maekar wondered what his son's dreams had been of late but decided that he was better off not knowing. He didn't need another talk of doom and dragons dying and reborn. For all his pride to be the blood of the dragon, he was pleased enough that the actual beasts had been put out of existence.

The girls ran into the hall a little later, breathless, with their hair still damp from the bath they had clearly taken at the last moment and very hurriedly. Aelinor rose immediately; and when after the obligatory curses they ran into her arms and Maekar saw her face as she clasped them tight to her, he let himself believe a little that Aelinor could still fight the utter despair that was her life, that one day she'd be able to let him near once again. Longing for human affection and meaningful interaction might turn out stronger than pride. Even one as great as hers… or his.

Deep inside, he already knew that no matter how things would go this time, no matter how she would treat him, he'd invite her over again.