Relief wound itself tightly around Viserys, much like an unwanted embrace. He did not flinch from the uncomfortable warmth settling within his breast at the sight of his brother and the man's beloved. The rightness of it should have soothed his nerves. Instead it served to put him in a position of wary curiosity.
"Took you long enough," his brother commented, putting away his quill with a soft smile. The sort of smile Viserys saw only by and by. "I sent you that latter moon turns past."
"Alas, one depends on fair wind for safe arrivals." Without waiting for an invitation, he took a seat near the bay window where his good-sister rested. Rosy light filtered through the stained glass, the warm, predawn colours adding a cheerful note to the bleak grey of her kirtle. "Good-sister, you look radiant."
"That would be the light," she commented back tartly, holding her hand out for him to grasp. He gave the limb a light, affectionate squeeze. "Although, considering you have given me only the faintest of compliments, I am forced to wonder at the sincerity of your words."
"I am allowed to take such liberties? My lady, I must stress the fact that your husband is here before us." He rose nevertheless and leaned in kissing both her cheeks, for which she rewarded him with a warm smile, carrying memories of childhood and something akin to nostalgia. Turning with a look of faux guilt, he addressed his brother, "'Twas not my doing. You saw she was the instigator."
"I am under no illusion regarding my wife." The smile melted from Lyanna's lips. She assumed a more austere expression before shifting her attention to the folds of her skirts, pleating them and stroking the creases away. "How were your travels?"
"I write to you of that, Your Majesty." He sat back in his chair, wondering if he ought to ask about the obvious gulf between husband and wife. He cocked his head to the side. "Did you not receive any of my missives?"
"None of your missives mentioned the companions you'd bring back."He spared only a moment to the surprise on his good-sister's face. But then Rhaegar had the little birds twittering to him while his poor good-sister was forced to make do with her own capacity of ferreting out secrets. "Might be ypu should like to tell us a word or two about them."
"I hardly think your wife would welcome such talk."
"And you needed two?" the woman managed.
"I needed only one. The other is some manner of priestess. I thought her a worthy curiosity and thus brought her back with me. I can hardly credit all the fuss." He looked down at his lacquered boots.
"A curiosity," his brother repeated.
"Indeed. Spend but a few moments in her presence and you shall understand. Although, I should caution great care. I have yet to meet a fire that did not burn." His good-sister moved with some difficulty from her bay window seat.
Lyanna had never been graceful in her pregnancies as far back as Viserys could remember. A marked difference from his brother's erstwhile wife. That one was the epitome of grace even at the height of a tirade. Nevertheless, as he watched her carry her weight, he could not help but smile. She might not be graceful, but she was arresting. "I do believe I am a proverbial third wheel. If Your Majesty would be kind enough to excuse me."
"Of course, lady wife, just as soon as you have given me the names of your preferred companions." Her moue fell yet again. So there was some manner of argument going on between them. His brother stared expectantly at the woman. When she neglected to offer him anything of value, he waved her back to her seat. "Rest. 'Tis not good for the babe to strain yourself."
"'Tis also not particularly helpful to the babe that I be badgered constantly. If I said it once, I said it a thousand times; I do not need new companions. The ones I had were suitable."
"Why would my good-sister have need of new companions?" Viserys gave up his own seat for Lyanna. Clearly, she desired to defy her husband, and the least form of it would be choosing a different seat than the one he'd indicated. Best to keep the conflict upon a smaller scale.
"How else is she to keep entertained during her confinement?" That again. Little wonder the woman was on edge.
"Might be she need not be confined at all, Your Majesty. After all, my good-sister is the picture of health." But might be the picture was treacherous. Viserys contemplated for but a moment the fear he saw in his brother's eyes. "The brightest minds are available to see to her needs should a situation arise in any event."
Despite his words, his gaze moved surreptitiously to the other in the chamber. The light had waned some and he could see that what had seemed a healthy glow was becoming paler and paler yet, as though she were in some manner of pain. Granted, he did not imagine the additional weight to carry around was pleasant necessarily, but she had had children before and none had seemed to affect her quite in such a manner.
"I am well and need not be kept like a child to my own bedchamber." Rhaegar opened his mouth, to contradict her no doubt, but she carried on without waiting for him to interrupt. "But if it puts your mind at ease, Your Majesty, I am willing to submit. But I am not giving up my companions."
"You will do what I tell you to do."
"Not at all. I find myself much in disagreement with Your Majesty."
"At times I think you forget to whom you speak."
"I am never given the opportunity to, Your Majesty."
His brother's face caught fire. Viserys was fairly certain it would not be long until the pressure got to him. "Are you that bent on dragging the whole ugly business before others?"
"I have nothing at all to hide," she spoke in a firm voice. "Methinks it would have served me better to remain with my brother." She made to stand.
"Sit back down." She hesitated. "Now." His wife obeyed, though her expression indicated she would not give another inch. "I am not done speaking to you."
"Speaking at me is more like it," the woman snapped back.
The volley between spouses made him increasingly nervous. As a general rule, he abhorred confrontations and would have left, yet the notion's appealingness paled ever so slightly at the ire his brother displayed. The man's anger could just as easily be turned upon others. The way Lyanna got under his skin; if only he were able to so easily rankle others.
"You are deliberately being difficult," his brother bit out.
"I would not be so very difficult if you left me be. Why is it never enough with you? No matter what I do, it never goes any way to alleviate a thing." She crossed her arms over her chest. "In any event, Your Majesty, if you think the situation not worth the effort, you've a viable alternative to fall back on. It is certainly not right to expect you to sacrifice yourself in such a manner."
They were not truly discussing confinements or the changing of her retinue. Viserys felt just a tad slow for not having caught on sooner. The fascinating thing was that he was in equal measure mesmerised, just as he was taken aback. Damnation, could he hiss only chance to understand what it was that kept to obviously very stubborn people together yet apart. To his luck they both seemed to have forgotten his presence.
"Leave you be," his brother snorted. "And what should you like to do? Visit Baelor's Sept, might be. You'll be disappointed to find the pillars are sturdy there and you aren't likely to need much rescue from your valiant knight."
She flinched. For the first time, Lyanna looked genuinely hurt. "That is beneath you, Rhaegar. Ser Jaime has no part in this."
"But you, of course, may bring Elia into the discussion without fear of repercussions."
"I have yet to hear any attempts at persuading me I should turn my attention to another, or at the very least," she paused, "how did he put it," she mused before finding the answer, "aye, or at the very least find a respectable match."
"And I told you to discount such discourse if you happen to hear it."
"You act as if you are not permanently tied to her. As though two children are not an unbreakable bond." Her eyes shone with unshed tears. "I chose you in spite of the very real possibility that you can, at any time, change your mind about me."
A dark chuckle came from his brother. "I must have dreamt you telling me you chose the most likely father to a hero. Elia wanted a crown; at least she had the decency to be honest about it."
A hero? It kept getting better and better. Viserys was not at all certain he could guess where the whole thing was going. If anything, he was more certain than ever that the cleverest of creatures could be unbelievably, bafflingly stupid in some regards. As if one could elect to step in the shoes of hero or knave at birth. But then Rhaegar had believed his son to be the prince that was promised. Why should Lyanna Stark not believe herself capable of creating a hero as well?
"Is that so wrong then?" The challenge in her words caused a brief silence to fall between the three of them. Not that Viserys had been contributing to the conversation. He looked from one to the other. "Am I to have planned no further than birthing you children and mending linens?"
"Aye, gods damn you, woman."
How fascinating. Viserys heartily wished there were some way to for him to be in possession of all the knowledge. Lyanna, meantime, stroked her middle with some speed, indication enough that his brother's words did not simply entered through one ear and passed through the other. She was considering his accusation. And even more, seemed mollified.
"I am not responsible for your insistence that I be put on some pedestal. Whatever you may think, Your Majesty, I am a flesh and blood woman. And there is nothing I have to reproach to myself."
"One of these days, lady wife, you will have pushed me too far," Rhaegar warned. Then, as if finally recalling his presence, his brother sighed loudly. "I would beg your pardon, brother, and your understanding in this matter. What you have just heard is not for the ears of anyone else."
"My lips are sealed." It was neither the first marriage he saw disintegrating before his own eyes, and he imagined, it would neither be the last. "Might be my good-sister should like to retire now, brother. This manner of discussion is bound to tire her out."
"You are correct, of course," Rhaegar allowed. "Lady wife, we will discuss this further at a more opportune moment. Pray, give some thought to my request. This is the last time I ask." Her jaw set, Lyanna gave an unwilling nod and stood, hands worrying the Myrish lace adorning her kirtle. "Go now. Just go."
She left, though not without one last long look to her husband. Whatever the meaning behind that was, Viserys could not decipher. Something told him he did not wish to at any rate. Left in the company of his brother, without the shield his good-sister provided, Viserys found himself more or less compelled to put a question forth, "How is it that whenever I witness such arguments, they are between people who should know much better?"
"Do not start with me. This is no concern of yours." In spite of such words, the King of the Seven Kingdoms looked lost.
"But it is. Alas, I know when not to push." He held his hands up, palms facing his brother in a calming manner. Having convinced himself the danger was past when his sibling declined to respond, Viserys tucked out the small gift he'd been sent. The broken halves of the figurine clattered upon the table. "Yet I remain perplexed. Why was I called back?"
"There is an issue I need your aid with." The white dragon was retrieved by its owner and tucked away into a small carved box. "I have received favourable answers from Lord Tyrell and now from Stannis Baratheon as well; if all goes well I do not doubt we will have ensured long-lasting ties." Much needed ties, considering some bridges had been burnt in the past. Viserys nodded understandingly. "I have not, however, received any manner of answer from Jon Arryn."
"Arryn?" he could not help but repeat. "You are not considering a match with the Arryns, are you? You cannot possibly; Jon Arryn is quite possibly the closest man in the kingdoms to Robert Baratheon."
"Jon Arryn is not an unfair man." His brother frowned. "If I did not think it necessary, I would not push for it." There were other strong houses he could parlay with, surely. Viserys shook his head. "You will take Jaime Lannister with you and address my request to Lord Arryn in person."
"And which unfortunate soul is to be sacrificed to the beast?" Had he planned to give Alysanne's hand in marriage? Little wonder the girl had acted out, insisting to go riding on her own. But then, might be he was reading too much into the matter.
"You believe this is an easy choice for me? I have protected my children for as long as it was within my power to do so. Rhaella will doubtlessly enjoy the change of scenery." The worst possible choice. Viserys fought back his first reaction. It was unfortunately a hurdle he knew his poor niece would have to jump.
"Elaena would fare better," he offered. "She shan't be easily cowed."
"Sometimes I do think you underestimate her." Far be it from him to naysay a father who, at the end of the day, ought to know his own children. But Viserys could not quite knock the notion that Rhaella, though dutiful girl and resigned by nature, would suffer needlessly were she to take on such a match. "After you have convinced Arryn, send word. Rhaella will follow shortly. The sooner this matter is concluded, the better."
"Have you spoken to my good-sister about this notion of yours?"
"To what purpose? House Stark has too long been without the necessary connections to be of aid in this." Not to mention the tiny problem of the woman's actions having scandalised quite a few people with her choices.
"You see, this is quite beyond my understanding. Would it not be better to convince Doran Martell to consent to a marriage between his eldest son and Rhaella. It shall naturally not bruise his pride too much as his heir is bound to find a husband of her own whom will doubtlessly sire a few children."
"I have my reasons for not pursuing that path."
"And might these reasons revolve around your first wife?" His brother gave no indication that was the case, but Viserys was not about to give up his line if inquiry. "Are you might be afraid some harm will befall your daughter?"
"Of course not. Rhaella is simply more suited for the match I propose." At that very moment it came to him. Viserys realised his brother had not refused a match with House Martell. He had simply denied Rhaella the possibility of such a match.
"Who would be more suited to a match with House Martell, then?" he pressed, his mind having already found an answer. "It occurs to me Rhaenys took well to her uncle's court. But even more, I hear she and her cousin, Arianne, have become fast friends."
"Small concessions must be made every now and again," his sibling allowed, toying with one of the many quills which found little use beyond decorative purposes during their discussions. "All the better if Rhaenys finds the Dornish court comfortable."
"You do not think her words have some sway over her brother?"
"If they do, Rhaella shall counter then, I've no doubt."
"Best you wed her to Stark's heir then. We should not wish to tear anyone from their own." She stood, moving over to the lancet. Without, the waning light drained beneath the horizon line. "Sometimes I tell myself you are not at all like father, whose one moment of weakness saw to laying the foundations of a very difficult situation indeed. And then you will do something like this. And I am forced to reassess my beliefs."
"The further one is from the throne, the more possibilities one has." Certainly not a lie, but cold comfort nonetheless. "I shan't speak to either Lyanna or Rhaella until we've an answer from Arryn. Can I count on you?"
"And Ser Jaime?" The King regarded the change of subject with a flicker of annoyance. Viserys could not find it in himself to care.
"He will remain with my daughter until she is well-settled, after which I shall send proper replacement." His brother could be so blind when it suited him.
"Send Ser Arthur or Ser Jon. It shall seem a strange thing to be sending Ser Jaime away when court is abuzz with rumour." And admission, even. One which could shake poor Lady Lyanna not only off her pedestal, but off the face of the earth.
"You will have to trust that I know what I am doing. Now, I ask you one more time, can I count on you?"
Something in the man's voice forced a favourable reply to his own lips. "You know very well that you can. Yet I cannot keep from voicing my worry at this, Your Majesty. I beg you would reconsider."