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Winds of Hatred, Glimpse of Sun

Caress of Sunlight

As soon as the first three moons, the most dangerous time, was over, they undertook the tour that had been planned and expected since Daenerys' arrival here. The progress that would show her Dorne and Dorne to her. Daenerys didn't think there'd be much to see but was too well-bred to say so. And later, she was pleased that she had because all that Mariah had told her turned out to be true. Dorne was not all hot and sand – well, a good deal of it was but not all. And as soon as they left Godsgrace, Daenerys had more pressing issues to worry about, like the fact that their next stop was the Tor where Elana Jordayne was from…

She wasn't there, of course. She was with her new husband at Salt Shore. But as Daenerys walked down the shore, she wondered if Elana and Maron had made long strolls here, in the brilliance of a fiery sunset. If their romance had started here. If she was lodged in the same rooms the two of them had shared.

"No," Dyanna said briefly when Daenerys asked her. "The Prince and Lady Elana were put in the western tower."

"How do you know?" Daenerys asked, wondering if her knowledge about Dorne was not even worse than she had realized. "I thought Starfall was far away?"

"It is," Dyanna confirmed. "But I visited here often. The late Lady Jordayne, Marisia, was wed to my uncle. You know him from court, I think."

That would be Ser Michael Manwoody. Elana temporarily forgotten, Daenerys was comforted by the knowledge that she had wed into a land where a daughter could inherit without anyone trying to protest her right. Where she could give her own name to her children. Because her own child might turn out to be a girl, no matter how fervently she prayed for a boy.

The reason for her prayer, thought, turned out to be quite harmless-looking. He was eight, small for his age, but quite agile and full of life. Not at the feasts – there, he looked at his father and Daenerys as if confused what she was doing here, although he had to know. Does he still expect to see his mother, Daenerys wondered and suppressed the sudden sympathy for that little person. After all, Daemon had been quite charming, people said. Personally, she had never seen that charm but so many people could not be wrong. And now, Daemon was busy creating problems for Daeron and Baelor. For that reason alone she was disgruntled to see the bastard seated at the dais, although he was sensibly put away from her. And when she retired, she knelt before the small statuette of the Mother and prayed for a son who would be all Dorne valued in a prince… and would look like Maron. That was very important.

When she woke up the next morning, her lord husband wasn't there. This wasn't unusual, since he normally rose before her but this time her heart went cold. She wasn't surprised to see him in the practice yard, so focused on his son's movements that he didn't even notice that she was there. In his eyes she saw all that he couldn't or wouldn't tell her – love, pride, grief, remorse. And she knew that her hopes that he had distanced himself from his past had been in vain.

Still, she was happy. The journey gave them a chance to get to know each other by giving them time. There was no audiences here, no work that took his whole day. Just the two of them. He even traveled with her in the wheelhouse to keep her company, amusing her with his description of the bizarre habits he had seen in Essos. Even his mother's Lyseni family did not get a pass.

The progress was quite revealing in some other aspects as well and soon Daenerys came to be grateful to the Seven for blessing her with child so soon. Now, she wasn't Aegon's daughter, the woman whose looks brought the memory of the past horrors so clearly and uncomfortably . She carried the future of Dorne in her womb and highborn and smallfolk alike revered her for that. She was no longer a stranger. In reply, she refused all suggestions of her ladies to have other attires made for her, wider and better-concealing. The memory of Mariah came to mind or rather, the tales about Mariah. How everyone had predicted a stillborn child or a monster when her last lying-in had coincided with King Aegon's campaign against Dorne; in reply, she had defiantly started wearing gowns that made her state blatantly clear and had finished her challenge by giving birth to no monstrosity but a silver prince. Could Daenerys do the same?

The Red Mountains were green and inviting, nothing like the hot, dusty Sunspear. Castle Yronwood – even cold for a Dornish one. Or perhaps it was the tension between Maron and their host. Mariah had also been quite reserved about the House, always. Across the mountain, both lords and smallfolk were so fair-skinned that Daenerys felt like she had come back home.

Starfall was yet another surprise. They reached the small fishing village a little before the famous night mist fell and Daenerys felt like she'd never see the day again. The mist was so thick that when she raised her hand before her face, she couldn't see it. She shuddered and quickly went back in the well-lit inside of the inn, having satisfied her curiosity. The rage of the Torrentine filled her ears well into the night and in the morning, she could hardly believe that it was the same gentle silver river that was spreading before her. In the distance, the pale castle shimmered like a pale pink rose.

Sandstone and Hellhold finally vindicated her tutors. Sand and hot were in abundance. Daenerys thought that she'd soon start breathe sand if she stayed here long enough! Still, there was certain harsh beauty to that yellow land, hot in the day and freezing at night, and its brown inhabitants. In Hellholt, she was so entranced by the dark mass gathering on the horizon like a true storm that she neglected her ladies' warnings that turned to outright pleas to get back and stayed until the sand blew in her eyes – and then was almost impossible to be taken out.

Castle Vaith was the most unpleasant experience this far. She had been quite curious about Lady Vaith, her father's onetime mistress, but the resemblance to her own mother was unsettling. Very beautiful, pale, Cassella Vaith seemed to be somewhere far away. She didn't try to make Daenerys feel welcome. She didn't even talk to her beyond the most basic of formalities. And she looked like Naerys, disturbingly so. The same hair, the same wasted figure, the same sharp facial lines. Daenerys was glad when they left, even if it was for Salt Shore.

In the months since her wedding, the new Lady Gargalen had recovered to some extent… and she was with child already. Oh, she was as sad as could be expected, sadder than even Daenerys' own mother, but she knew the world around her. Daenerys' discreet inquiries told her that the woman had personally made all the arrangements for their visit, so her mind was back. "You seem to have adjusted here wonderfully," Daenerys complimented her, while inside, she raged when she imagined all the processions where Elana had been at the receiving end of the celebrations, as if she had been Maron's wife.

Elana said something polite in return but his smile was as forced as Daenerys'. The younger woman could feel the effort she and Maron were making not to look at each other too often and behave as if they had never been anything other than what they were now.

"Lady Gargalen looks lovely," Daenerys ventured to say later that night.

Maron nodded. "She's strong, Elana. Always was. She needed to be strong to withstand…" His voice trailed off.

"Thank you," Daenerys suddenly said, surprising herself as much as him. "For not trearing me like a fool; by explaining how dear she still is to you but it's all different now and I am not threatened by the new kind of relationship between you."

He came close and started rubbing her feet, taking them in his lap. Both Daenerys and the babe loved this part of their routine. He was so experienced that she knew he had done the same with Elana in her first three pregnancies. She had spent the fourth one alone, as she was surely spending this one. The old man didn't look like someone who'd offer a massage. "I think there's nothing more pitiful than a relationship that is over but pretends to have transformed into friendship," he said sincerely. "I don't believe there is middle in love. And it wouldn't do her any good either. I already did her enough harm."

Daenerys thought about this. Love? The only instance of love that she had seen was with Daeron and Mariah, so it was them that she tried to imagine, their relationship over and friendship trying to take its place. The hands that she had seen joined so often as if they were truly one relegated to formal kisses? Eyes that drank the other's to the bottom barely greeting each other? Lips that sought the other pair of lips uttering bland words amicably? No, there could never be friendship between Daeron and Mariah, the Dornish sun of his life. They were so close that should life tear them apart, they'd become strangers. Daeron might have tried but Mariah would have never had it. If she couldn't have it all, she wanted none of it – she couldn't have a part of the things that really mattered. And it looked that Maron wasn't different from his sister in this regard; with her knees going weak with relief, Daenerys realized that Elana Jordayne's part in their life was over.

About two months before her time, Daenerys gave up. The absent Elana, far away and expecting another man's child, was too strong a rival to be chased away by time and distance. She might no longer be in his life but she was in his heart, although his affection for Daenerys grew by the day. He wouldn't forget her like her father had forgotten them, all the women he had claimed to love.

"You can bring Garin to Sunspear if that is your wish," she finally said. Taking away one of the reasons for his grief would bind him closer to her with the snare of gratitude… and Elana wouldn't be here to stir the turmoil with her very presence. Besides, Daenerys would rather have the boy close and be able to learn what he was up to than far away, with people who were bound to his mother and not Daenerys.

So Garin Sand and Astrea Dayne became the first children to bathe and swim in the pools of the Water Gardens, their laughter making Daenerys smile as her suspicions slowly ebbed and her kindness to her husband's bastard started coming more from the heart than brain. There was no doubt that her own child would be Maron's heir; separated from his mother's family, the boy depended on his father solely – and her. No matter what, she wasn't about to punish a child for the only sin of being born. Not that Maron would tolerate such a thing – but her perception of seeing Garin as enemy faded away as days went by and her bitterness at the fact that Elana had robbed her of the satisfaction to have her first child be Maron's first as well retreated, supplanted by the fear of the upcoming birth.

"It isn't easy, for sure," Siella would say stoutly. "But the new mother's joy is such that we immediately forget all we've been through."

Daenerys lapped at her words, feeling that she was getting a valuable lesson, although she knew Siella couldn't promise her a living child. Her prayers for a son for Dorne and herself now turned to pleas not to end up like her mother, always with child and always losing it. All but two.

She watched with her heart in her throat as Dyanna entered the pool carefully holding Mors. What if she dropped him? But the babe started kicking and waving his arms immediately, taking to the water like a fish, and Daenerys wished that she had been allowed to swim like the boys in the palace had been, to be able to be the one to give her son this joy. Then she smiled, remembering the now famous meeting between Dyanna, then Astrea's age, and Maekar who had not been much older. It had taken place at the pool at Dragonstone and now she could see why Dyanna had been so aghast at hearing that girls were not allowed to swim. My daughters will learn this, Daenerys thought, pleased that she had wed in a land that would not deprive them of this joy.

When she said this to Maron, he laughed. "Swimming?" he asked. "Is this the great achievement you're so happy of?"

He didn't understand. No one did like she did, like Dyanna did, what it meant to be deprived of this simple pleasure.

"Look," Maron suggested. "If it means so much to you, I can teach you to swim."

He might not understand but he was ready to do whatever he could to remedy the situation. Her smile was immediate, wide, and completely unladylike.

"I'd love that very much," she said.

Dyanna wed in a bright spring redolent with promises. To Maekar! Daenerys' feelings were quite conflicted. She had often thought that the violet-eyed, lively Dayne, with her quick tongue, would be the darling of any court but she had never thought she's actually lose her to one. Sunspear and King's Landing were so far away! Now, Daenerys would see her only when one of them undertook the long travel to visit. And while the match was no doubt a glorious one, she couldn't help but wonder how much of Dyanna would be left with a boy as grim and solemn as Maekar… and she wasn't the only one.

"Listen, I'll give you three thousand dragons if you change your mind," Ileria Toland, Dyanna's grandmother said. "Do not wed him. You'll regret it till the end of your days."

This much support to her own mind angered Daenerys so much that she was about to announce her presence at the door. What did Lady Toland offer? There wasn't time for Dyanna to change her mind. The wedding would take place in a few hours.

"Just don't say the words," the old woman went on and it all became clear. Once again, Daenerys felt that there was much work to be done for the wounds on both sides to heal.

And still, later the same day it looked like they had. In fact, the harmony between Dornishmen and men from the Reach and the Riverlands looked almost too great. Was that Aegor Bittersteel talking to Cletus Yronwood? She squinted to see better and was taken by surprise when Daemon Blackfyre approached her and asked for a dance.

The audacity! She might have accepted her husband's bastard but she would not accept her father's! Especially one as troublesome as Daemon! In her time away from King's Landing, he had sharpened the divide even more, making demands that were entirely unreasonable. Wanting the same number of noble attendants for Rohanne as Jenna had? Desiring to be the captain of the gold cloaks without any regard for the man who had been holding the office with honour ever since Daeron appointed him? What made him think that he could ask her for a dance as if he were her equal?

Of course, she couldn't refuse him. A quick glance at Maron confirmed that. He nodded, knowing as well as she did that with all eyes on them, a refusal might lead to a massive clash that would stain Dyanna's wedding gown with red before the day was over, so Daenerys smiled and accepted Daemon's hand. And while he was leading her in the dance, there was only one thought in her mind each time they turned and she saw the faces of the people watching them, Why are they looking at us like that? What is it that I don't know?