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Disclaimer: I own nothing. All things recognizable are property of G.R.R. Martin, David Benioff, D.B. Weiss, & company, & the asoiaf wiki.

A/n: Though it's not particularly graphic there is nudity in the chapter.

Chapter 14

Jon Arryn sat in his Solar with only papers and tomes to keep his company. Ser Gerold had been with him in the morning but the other man had his own duties to see to. Truthfully, he was not in the mood for company and so tried to busy himself with work.

He sighed; even if he had mountains of both around him it would offer his mind no respite. If the King had been any other sort of man there would have been more for him to do as Hand, though there was plenty to do, but, it seemed as though his talk with the king about his duties and responsibilities had gone better than he imagined it would. It is times like these when Jon thinks it would have been better if his advice had not taken so well.

In the end he sat back and closed his eyes. Trying to keep himself occupied was doing him no favors and if he was to work then he would need to work properly or not bother trying at all. It would be beneath him to try and do work when his mind was clearly occupied elsewhere.

There would be no escape from the worries which plagued him. The first things that bothered him were the two letters he received recently. He pulled out the two well-read letters from the drawer he put them in. One letter was from his home and the other from the North. Ordinarily a letter from either place would fill him with a sense of happiness and peace, but, neither of these two allowed for it.

The one in the Vale was from his castellan. At first he had thought it was simply a routine missive. He would not been surprised to see a missive from the Eyrie containing information he required from his castellan about the usual business related to the running of his household. What had shocked him was this letter contained information about Baratheons' arrival and stay at the Eyrie. It seemed that snow fell heavily and it caused a delay with respect to the Baratheons' plans to leave and there had been other lords of the Vale present. He knew that the Eyrie was in well managed in the castellan's hands, but, Jon was concerned about Lord Baratheon.

Though he had not expected the Baratheon party to remain in the Eyrie for very long, it filled him with great unease. He knew Lord Stannis was a good man, if a bit aloof, but, in his own mind he could not compare him to Robert and he was sure the other lords of the Vale would find it difficult not to do the same. It was unfair, but, many in the Vale knew, loved, and mourned Robert dearly; and Stannis, though he was his brother, they were not accustomed to and did not know at all. Though he knew that given the chance, with the lessons he taught him Robert could have been a worthy Lord of Storm's End, he can not help but feel responsible for the fractured state of the relationship between the elder Baratheon brothers; the relationship which now can never be mended. Stannis had only so rarely spoke to him about Robert and now he was in the Eyrie, where his brother lived happily and away from him, at that. Still, it did relieve him that Stannis had his own wife and family with him, though Lady Ashara would be seen as unusual in her own right. Still, knowing as he did of his own marriage a marriage borne of careful necessity such as that one was not an easy one entered into or maintained. Though he did not know Lord Stannis as much as he liked where before he had less in the past with Robert's infrequent mentions, he still was concerned.

The letter from the North was not an easy one to read either. As much as getting a letter from Ned would please him, it worried him. There was nothing untoward about it, but, it was a difficult one to read for many reasons. His former ward admitted to writing a letter to the King where he asked, yet again, to foster his nephew. On one hand, he was proud that Ned had thought to ask again; it showed Jon that his once-ward grew to be an honorable man. That Ned was willing to make peace with the King and he likes to think that his tutelage had contributed greatly to that. Still, he was concerned; not only because of how King Rhaegar would react to Ned's request or the Queen, for that matter. Ned was a good man and would make a good lord, but, Jon had worried about the reasons Ned had for making the offer once again. Ned had lost so much in the war, much of his family, and Jon when he read the letter had wondered if Ned asked to foster his nephew more because he wanted to rebuild his family with what was left of it and less because he thought it was for the best of the child.

He would not usually ascribe such a less than altruistic motives to anyone, much less one such person who he loved dearly, but, Jon knew he was guilty of doing the same and knew that such a thing could only cause disappointment. He knew his fears were baseless because Ned was such a good man, but, he could not help the thought as it came to mind though there was nothing insidious about Ned's proposal.

In fact, much of the letter is filled what should have been enough cause to ease his mind, but, it had not accomplished that. When he first began to read the letter he could not fight the fond smile that crept across his face when Ned talked so proudly of his boy, Robb, though the name of the child caused an ache in his chest when he remembered who Ned named the boy for. Ned also spoke of his lady wife. It made him happy to think of how his ward has done for himself, but, Ned's words reinforced his troubles with his own wife who was Lady Stark's sister.

Lysa. Even more than Stannis or Ned it was Lysa who drove him to such pained distraction. He had hoped to invite Lysa to sit with him, but, his lady wife wished to spend the day with her uncle. That was no hardship; Ser Brynden was a man he respected and he would not begrudge her time with her family if it comforted her. But, even if the circumstances been different he was in no mood to fight Lysa and would not force her into doing something she had not wanted to do; not now. If letting her do what she wished made her more agreeable that he would allow much more. He had done enough by simply marrying her.

He thinks back to the Tully's house words of Family, Duty, Honor and how much they appealed to him then when he first married her. But, now they gave him no comfort. When he married Lysa he had known she had not been virginal. He tries not to find fault with her for it; after all, he knew she had given her maidenhead to someone else, but, he was a man who valued honor highly and could not quite bring himself to forgive her lack of it. Even more than that, he could not forgive that she valued something else far more highly than not only her honor, but, that of her family. As to duty, she had done hers and married him as her father bid, but, he knew she only did her duty as a wife with great reluctance. As for family, he had been unlucky for so many years; losing both wives, children, and his brother. In accepting Ned and Robert as his wards he tried to create a family of his own and now both his beloved nephew Elbert and Robert are both gone and Ned is just so far away.

Though her honor was lost to him and her duty begrudging he had hoped Lysa could have been the making of his family, but, not even Lysa's news about her moon's blood or the Maester's most recent confirmation of her pregnancy softened her towards him. Even with what should be cause for mutual happiness, more often than not Lysa's door was barred to him; as was her mind and her heart.

He could forgive her somewhat; she was young and unhappy. She knew why he married her; others knew of it as well. She married him because not many others of their station would have her and he married her because he knew of what tying himself to her would afford him; not because he held affection for her or held her in high regard. He also knew what he was and could seem like, especially to someone of her age. He was no knight from a song and his best days, his best years even, were behind him. If he could find fault with her so easily; she was no less capable of finding fault with him. He was not a man who could fail to accept truths when they came his way and he could not fully fault her for resenting him for it, but, her rejection of him tasted bitter.

He was the one who chose to marry her and it made neither of them happy, but, there was only so little both could do about it. The worst of it was that was his doing.

Marriage and family ought to bring a person peace and happiness, but, even though he took a marriage and tried to forge a family with it, peace and happiness eluded him as it had for sometime now.

With a sigh, Jon pulls the ledger he had been examining back towards him. If he cannot be at peace or happy it just as well that he can keep busy.

It was cold, Ashara Dayne, no, Baratheon, she corrected herself, thought. She smiles faintly. Her Dornish blood is not suited to this cold, but, then, she cannot say she is of Dorne anymore; not entirely. It's been some time since her wedding she is still not used to considering herself Lady Baratheon, though she knows she is.

Perhaps when they finally got to Storm's End she would get used to being called Lady Baratheon. In time, she would become used to feeling as though she could call herself that. Until that time she would have to continually remind herself of her new identity. Perhaps she would feel as though she deserved to call herself Lady Baratheon if she felt more like the wife of the Lord of Storm's End. Stannis was not unkind to her, and they had shared one another's beds whilst at King's Landing, but, being at the Eyrie showed her that the cold of the Eyrie was not the only coldness she would have to live with.

They tarried longer than she expected and her husband hoped, but, there was nothing for it; when they reached the Vale it had been snowing. It even snowed last night. It was still dangerous to travel. There was the child, well, children to consider. Robert's girl, Mya, was a shy thing with them, but, it was to be expected. Though Mya knew who her father was, Robert had been dead for some time and then gone for longer than that. Of course, neither she nor Stannis were Robert; nor could they ever be.

Ashara looked at where her daughter and her newly met niece played. Though both girls had been standoffish with one another when they first met, it was a relief that girls got on well now. Even if they were both bastards in the eyes of most men they would have one another to be friends. Still, it would be cruel to rip the girl from familiar surroundings when they were still strangers to her and travelling with children was never easy.

Of course, there was Renly as well. In the first days after they left the capital the boy had been sullen. He had adjusted so well at the capitol and had not wanted to leave. When he was faced with the idea of having no male company his age he had been taciturn, but, much to her and Stannis' relief the boy settled down eventually. It likely helped that there were plenty of Lords in the Vale who had boys his age, but, they would leave here soon enough again.

Still, while the children were happy for now and though she was afforded fine rooms, this was not her place and it held no great meaning for her. Stannis would say that it was a place just like any other, but, this was the place his brother called home for many a year. This was a place his brother loved; it was a place he had never ventured and it represented a life he had no part of. Though he said nothing, he hated it here.

He had told her once that he and Robert had not been close, that he was fairly certain Robert saw Ned Stark as more of his brother, and that he felt very little towards Robert, but, Ashara saw it as the lie it was. If it was true, then Stannis would not be uncomfortable here as he was. He had told her that he had not wanted to come, but, that, "it was his duty" and he could not forsake it. If he felt so little for Robert, he would not have accepted his daughter into his household. Most in Westeros would not find caring for one's brother's bastards to be any sort of duty. Ashara smiled fondly, looking at where Robert's Mya and her Alya were playing; her husband was most definitely not like men and she was glad for it.

Though he would not talk to other men about Robert, he would talk about him to her. Not much, but, he would mention some things. Renly, bolstered by the tales told by the lords of the Vale, would ask for some stories and though Stannis was reticent, he would not completely disavow speaking about Robert entirely. It was absurd how pleased sometimes Ashara felt when her husband would unbend in such ways, but it was the truth.

Stannis would not say he wished to be gone; but, one would have to be a fool not to know it.

She shook her head ruefully; her husband was a serious sort of man most of the time, but, being in the Vale did not agree with him. Though he was officially a traitor at the time of his death, Robert was remembered fondly by many who lived in the Vale. After all, their own Lord Paramount had been a traitor as well; that was not the cause of their unease. Though they mourned Lord Robert's loss and would have been happy to see most of Lord Robert's family was intact, it was still easy to see how they were disappointed that though Stannis may have shared his brother's looks to some degree and was only a year younger, he was cut from a vastly different cloth.

Stannis, of course, responded to them in kind. Though he tried not to be cruel or cutting about it, he remained aloof and uncomfortable and many were taken aback with Stannis' unwillingness to bend when the other lords of the Vale would try to speak about Lord Robert with him. In the first days there would be effusively spoken stories about Lord Robert, some that included Lord Stark, but, that stopped soon enough when it became obvious that Stannis would become completely be closed to them when Robert was mentioned.

These lords of the Vale knew her husband to be a good man and were grateful that he would do right by Mya as much as he was able; but, he was not Robert. Most of these lords did not quite know what to make of her either. She was of Dorne and her family had been supporters of the Targaryens, and she expected there would be difficulties with that and that she had a bastard of her own. But, they remembered that Lord Ned Stark just as fondly as they did Lord Robert and they also knew of what happened to Brandon and so they were not mistrustful of her now; not with the way Robert's girl responded to her. It relieved her, but, it would not matter because this wasn't their place. Still, her husband ought not to have just sour memories of a place his brother once lived. He would be haunted enough by the memories at his own home.

Looking around the Great Hall of the Eyrie she wonders what the one at Storm's End is like. She remembered fondly the one at Starfall and for all that she misses Elia, less fondly the one at King's Landing, but, she only has vague descriptions of the one at Storm's End. She was often there when Renly would tell the girls stories about Storm's End within her hearing. She wonders what living at Storm's End would be like. A year ago; mere months ago even, she would have scoffed at the idea of her asking questions. Though it seemed rather foolish, ever since they left King's Landing she would often find herself trying to picture it in her mind.

In the end, they would have to remain at the Eyrie until the snow which fell on the roads out of the Vale after they arrived melted and the way was clear. Still, she did not like how empty the Eyrie seemed to be. Perhaps it would have been better for Lord Arryn and Lady Lysa to be here with them; for all that she had not interacted with Lady Lysa over much; it would have been nice to be in familiar company. True, there was the castellan and his lady wife, but, still it was empty. No matter, she thought, they would be gone soon. Both she and Stannis would have to bear it. She smiled thinking of one way to make the experience bearable; only if her husband would agree.

"The snow had stopped, my lady." The now familiar voice cut through her reverie and she turned to see her husband. As usual, he was dressed, somberly, in black, though the cuffs and collar had gold.

She found herself smiling, "Is that right, Stannis?" She stressed his name, hoping he would get the hint.

Stannis came to sit next to her; close enough to touch but he does not touch her and she does not try either. He nodded. "In two days we will leave, Ashara." She smiles at the equal amounts of stress when saying her name.

"Will the roads be clear enough? Perhaps it might snow again." She sees no reason to stay for longer than necessary, and certainly has no desire to, but, it would not do to leave such things to chance.

He frowns at her; as though it is unfeasible that anyone would question him, but, she had come to understand that was simply his way. "Lord Arryn's castellan seems to think the snow would cease for enough of time for us to leave properly."

She nods back. "Good."

He stayed silent for a minute, but, he looked as though he was fighting an internal debate. She prompted him, "Yes?"

"I can have someone to assist you with our things; if you require it." She fought off the smile threatening to creep onto her face. That was as close as his asking if she wanted help that she would get from him. Still, it was kind of him to ask.

"No, I think I have it." It was true. Even with packing for the five of them they did not have many things with them.

He frowned, "Are you positive?"

"Yes." She would not need the help; not truly. Because it snowed when they made their way up the mountain the wheelhouse had to stay housed at the base of the mountain with many of their items remaining behind as well. It would have been impractical to bring up all of their things when they had to ride mules up to the Eyrie and they had not expected to stay here for very long.

He looks at her, "Very well." With that he turned and said no more to her. She turned her attention to where his was and seeing the girls, she had to break the silence once more.

"Where is Renly?" She had not seen her good-brother at all since breakfast.

"Here I am!"

They turned to see him coming through the door. "There is no need to run, Renly."

Renly rolled his eyes at his brother's command while Ashara hid a smile behind her hand. Renly slowed his pace all the same. Renly came to sit beside her and wrapped his arm around hers; smiling brightly. She was sure he would grow to be a charmer.

"The snow stopped." Her lips twitched. Stannis had said nearly the same thing to her.

"Yes, I know."

"Does that mean we will leave soon?" The child inquired softly.

This time Stannis spoke up, "We will be leaving in two days."

"That soon?"

Stannis looked at him, frowning deeply. "We have been here long enough. Certainly, you want to go back home."

Renly rolled his eyes again and Stannis started to grind his teeth. Ashara thinks she might be fighting a losing battle in trying to get her husband to stop that. The boy still spoke as he rose and started to walk to make his way across the room to where the girls were. "Of course, Mya and Alya have never seen Storm's End."

Ashara turned to her husband again. "You are quite adamant that we are to leave in two days."

"I would leave now if I could." She does not doubt that for a second.

She leaned in slightly. She noticed how he stiffened even now; but, much to her pleasure he had not flinched away. "Has the hospitality of the Vale been that lacking?"

He frowned at her, but, there was no heat in it at all, "No, and you know I wished to leave as soon as possible." That was true; she did know it.

She mused, "It does not leave that much time then…"

He looks confusedly at her, "Time for what? You said you did not need help to pack." She smothers a laugh. Her husband would think of that.

She fights to keep the grin off of her face as she leans in to whisper in his ear so that only he can hear her, "Would you come to my rooms tonight?"

He stares at her; not understanding. She presses herself into his side and takes his hand, "Oh."

She cannot help the smile which stretches across her face, "Yes, 'oh.'"

He frowns, and keeps his voice low, "Do you not think it improper?" She almost smiles at the response. That was not a refusal, but, she understands his hesitance. They are in someone else's home, but, the host is away and most of Westeros thinks her to be very 'improper' already.

She tilts her head at him, smiling, "Since when it is improper for a husband to take his marital rights?"

He frowns more deeply, "And this is the proper venue for that?"

"Why not? We are newly married. One does expect some things."

He sends her a look, "That is not what I meant."

Though he has not pulled his hand from hers or moved to separate them, this was going much slower than she hoped. Finally, she settles on a different tact, "I would have you do your duty."

He narrows his eyes at her, "My duty?"

"Yes, your duty and mine."

He snorts, "And what duty is that?"

"The duty of siring a proper heir for the house of Baratheon."

He looks at her, "That is not why you want me to come to your rooms." It is times like these where his bluntness is not a particularly attractive quality.

She exhales a breath. She spares one glance to where the children are occupied. She thinks there is nothing for it then. She turns to Stannis and kisses him, hard. Though he freezes in shock for a moment, she is relieved when she feels him relax and begin to respond to her. She counts it a victory when she feels his hand in her hair.

When they separate, she huffs out, "Siring heirs may not be the reason why I want this, but, you are my husband and I am your wife. That will not change no matter the location and I want you to join me in my rooms."

He nods. "Very well, I will come to your rooms tonight."

This time, it is she who frowns, "Try not to sound so put out about it, my lord."

He looks at her confusedly, "I am not, as you say, 'put out'. I agreed, did I not? And since when is it, 'my lord' again?"

She stares at him, "Sometimes, I do not understand you."

"Nor I, you." His expression was incredibly earnest.

"What a fine pair we are", she cannot help but grouse. That does not stop her from laying her head on his shoulder.

Rather stiffly, he asks, "Are your histrionics quite done?" Despite his rather pointed question, he does not move away from her.

She turns to make sure he does not see her smile. No, she definitely imagined a marriage such as this, but, she cannot say she regretted it.

Rhaegar sighs as he looks down at the practice field from his vantage point. He was thankful he had some time to himself. Well, he was not completely by himself, not with Ser Oswell some feet away, but, he was in no mood for company who insisted on making superfluous conversation. He had his fill of it yesterday watching likes of Lord Emmon Frey and Lord Mace Tyrell in council. He snorted; it was not just them. The inane chatter of most courtiers was no better on most days, but, he had some time before he was due at court. If he had been any other sort of man, he would have left today's audiences to Lord Arryn, but, he was the king, that was his duty.

He frowned as he looked down. He leaned forward to get a better view. The sight of his brother at archery was nothing to question, but, it was rather strange to see Viserys at the practice field with Ser Lucas looking on; both he and the knight were left alone though there were other knights of the household practicing at weaponry as well. What was unusual was that Viserys was without a gaggle of female company that used to flock behind his brother when they were at the practice field.

Much to his pleasure, not that he would voice it in front of his wife though she did know something of his feelings on the subject, Elia's brothers took their wives and children with them back to Dorne. Even better, he remembered hearing from Elia and Ser Jaime that Oberyn had plans on taking Cersei to the Free Cities after they reached Sunspear. Of course that was not the only unusual thing Rhaegar noted.

Usually it was Ser Jaime who took Viserys' lessons, but, the other knight was nowhere to be seen. Now that he thought of it, he had not seen the knight all day. He knew exactly where the others were. Ser Brynden was with his niece, Lady Lysa; Ser Gerold was with his Hand; he had just left Ser Arthur in the nursery; and Ser Barristan had been acting as his representative in a meeting with the City Watch.

He turned to Ser Oswell, "Ser Oswell?"

The man acknowledged him, "Yes, Your Grace?"

"Have you seen Ser Jaime today?"

The other knight frowned at him. "Not that I recall, did Your Grace have need of him?"

He shook his head, "No, nothing like that, but…" He motioned down to where Viserys was; when Ser Oswell saw what he was indicating, he continued, "He usually takes my brother's lessons." Or at least Rhaegar thought he did. He frowned. He ought to show more of an interest in his brother's education. He flushed a bit. Viserys was his responsibility just as much as Aegon and Jon were.

The other man shrugged, "Ser Lucas would know." It was a logical statement. The newest knight of his Kingsguard had bonded well with the second youngest of his brotherhood.

His mind made up, they both made their way to the practice field.

Shortly after, Rhaegar stood silently watching as his brother lifted yet one more arrow. Viserys knew he was here. He could see it in the plant of his brother's feet, the way his brother took a breath and squared his shoulders. He did not want to interrupt.

Viserys' arrow had missed the bull's-eye, but, not by that much. Still, he saw how his brother's shoulders slumped as if in defeat. The young knight patted his shoulders and started to offer some tips for the future. Rhaegar knew a bow was not his choice of a weapon, but, objectively he could tell it was a fine effort.

Seeing his brother he remembered his own childhood when his father would oversee to his education. He had shown no interest in weaponry then and his father had voiced his displeasure at that quite thoroughly. He would not do the same; he would not be the same. Viserys turned to him; waiting for him to say something; anything.

"Well done. Keep trying. It'll come in time. It was far better than any effort I put in weapons when I was your age." While his brother was relieved enough to smile at him, he was thoroughly relieved there was no one here for him to force acknowledgment of his having put very little effort into learning to handle weapons when he was his brother's age.

Viserys picked up the bow and another arrow and Rhaegar had to ask, "Do you not have lessons with the Maester today?"

A jubilant answer in his direction of "Not until later" and with his brother turning his back on him caused him to remember his initial reason for coming down here. Turning to Ser Lucas, "Does not Ser Jaime usually take his lessons?"

Ser Lucas nodded absently, keeping his eyes on the scene in front of him, "Yes, Your Grace, usually he does, but, Her Grace required an escort to the Great Sept. She also said something about it was long past time to trust me with overseeing the Prince's education at least this once."

Rhaegar caught the blush on the young knight's face. He would have rolled his eyes at his if he had not been frowning at the information he was presented with. He had not seen Elia either today and Elia had not told him she had been planning on visiting the Sept, but, why would she take Ser Jaime? "She was here?" The words came out harsher than he hoped.

The tone of his voice must have registered because the younger knight turned to look at him, rather alarmed, "She escorted Prince Viserys down here herself."

"I see." He did not, but, he would have his answers soon.

"It is just as well."

He frowned at that. He turned to Ser Lucas. "How do you mean?"

The knight looked uncomfortable, as if that was something had not meant to say, "Ser Jaime had been out of sorts recently. He seemed unwell." He stopped; obviously wishing to say no more; clearly not feeling as though it was not his right and Rhaegar left it alone. He had not noticed much about Ser Jaime, but, he supposed this knight would know. Still, if there was something he should have, but, his attention had been elsewhere and of course, Ser Jaime, though amiable, did not invite him into his confidence overmuch. He would find out later.

Rhaegar did not have to wait for very long to find out what that meant as Elia and Ser Jaime could be seen walking in their direction. There was nothing strange about their posture, but, Rhaegar had seen the way they stopped speaking when they reached the group. He had noticed his wife's arm curled around the knights and she gave his arm a little squeeze before she separated from him.

Rhaegar reached for her hand which she took easily enough and as if on impulse he had kissed her cheek.

Once they exchanged greetings Ser Jaime turned to Ser Lucas, "How was it?"

"Quite well. He is getting better. With more practice he should improve greatly."

"Good, good. Then we ought to continue this tomorrow, then." The last was said as a statement, but, Ser Jaime was looking at him and there was a question in his voice.

"I think that would be fine. Just please make sure he gets to the Maester on time." Elia hid a smile behind her hand and the knights within hearing tried to unsuccessfully stifle their laughter; though Ser Jaime nodded in acceptance. He tried to contain his own grimace at the words. Viserys had long since picked up on his distaste for Maester Pycelle and now no one could, and to be fair, no one bothered, to correct that.

With that done with, Rhaegar started to leave though he had noticed the gentle smile his wife sent Ser Jaime's way which he responded to with a bow of the head.

When he escorted her to her chambers as he settled himself on a chair in her boudoir as he watched her pick a dress for her to change in, he broached the subject. "I was surprised to hear you went to the Sept today and with Ser Jaime."

She made a noncommittal noise, "Yes, I had not the opportunity lately. I also wanted to leave some more money to the orphanage. "

He considered that. Elia had kept herself very busy lately and had not visited the Sept with great frequency. While neither he nor his wife was particularly devout, but, it would be expected the anointed would visit the Sept with some regularity; and charity could hardly hurt the city, "How much?"

"50 dragons."

He nodded, but, he tried to fight the flush creeping up on the back of his neck. The war, the one he and his father started, had caused an increase in the number of orphans in the city and elsewhere. The least he could do was allow his wife to make some donations once in a while, especially if he had not done it himself.

In the end he just considered the amount his wife donated. He was relieved. It was not a small sum, but, not outrageous either to where the Master of Coin would bother him about it.

"I see. And you took Ser Jaime with you."

Still with her back facing him, she says, "I did." Dress in hand she turns towards him, "It was more than my life's worth for Ser Gerold to find out that I left the Keep without at least one member of the Kingsguard as an escort." As she turns her attention back to where it was, he had let out a bark of a laugh. Ser Gerold was protective of all the members of the family.

"Ser Jaime usually supervises Viserys' lessons, does he not?" He hopes that does not sound like an accusation.

She stepped in front of him and she gives him an undecipherable look. She turned her back to him again. "Yes he does…husband, please can you get that fastening?" He nods. He wonders briefly at this request of hers, but, if his wife wishes to undress in front of him he will not complain; not when it took long enough to simply be allowed back into her chambers with regularity.

For a moment as she slips off the gown his attention is focused on the much appreciated visual in front of him, but, he remembers what he wanted to speak to his wife about.

"Then why take Ser Jaime? Does Viserys not like the way he supervises his lessons." Now he knows he just cast a rather wide net for information. Viserys has only high praise for the knight.

Still nude, she turns back to snort in derision, and with a in a pointed look, "It seems, unlike my husband, when his attention is directed where it should be, his usually remains."

He purses his lips at that. He studies her face for a moment because the thought that she refers to Lyanna and not Ser Jaime swims in his mind. He breathes out in relief because the humor in her face tells him she had no underlying meaning to what she said. Even then, it would be very unwise to ask such questions; it would be foolish to undo the damage that his inappropriate curiosity can cause to their carefully mending relationship. In the end he comes to stand behind her putting his hands around her hips and placing a kiss upon her neck. Speaking softly, "I assure you, my attention is yours. It is just that Ser Lucas had said Ser Jaime has been out of sorts lately."

She frowns, but, eventually concedes. "That is so."

"Would you happen to know why?"

"Yes, I do." Of course she does, he thought darkly. Ser Jaime would speak to his wife far more readily than he would with him; and Rhaegar knows it is not only because Elia's brother married Cersei Lannister. "Well?"

She smirks at him, and steps out of his grasp to move to pull on the other gown. "Why do you want to know?"

"He is a member of my Kingsguard. I ought to know if something ails him, especially if my wife knows of it." It was the truth; but, if his hands move to take his wife's when she goes to fasten the hook on her dress he tells himself it is not because of any sort of jealousy on his part at hers' and the knight's friendship.

She sighs softly, "It is not much of ailment. It will pass. Give it time."

He frowns at her, "I do not know what 'it' is."

She looked at him. She purses her lips. She clearly does not want to disclose something said in confidence, but, she sighed and eventually said, "He misses his sister dearly." Rhaegar is certain some important detail is severely lacking in that explanation because he can not comprehend that pronouncement at all. When Elia said nothing more he prompted with a question.

"What?"

She frowned at him. She restated, "He misses his sister."

He heard that the first time she said it. It still did not make sense the second time. Something on his face must have showed because she quipped, "You look as though I just informed you I could warg into a dragon at will. What is so vexing about a man missing his sister?"

"He misses his sister." His repetition of the words offers no greater insight. Though she said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world he is unsure how that could cause despondency in anyone. Certainly there should be something more than just that. The last time Ser Jaime had been out of sorts was when recounting his father's actions during the war, but, this was nothing to get worried over. He thought about it for a bit. He had noticed Ser Jaime had been rather quiet and businesslike after the Martells had left, but, the knight rarely spoke to him about much outside of his duties. Truthfully, he had not thought much of it. His thoughts were interrupted when Elia sits next to him and started to speak.

"Yes, he misses his sister. Not quite the same way that I miss my brothers…" She frowns, "Well, I know how you feel about my brothers, Oberyn in particular, but, Cersei is his twin. It is only natural that he dislikes being parted from her again. Well, I suppose one just has to know what that is like to have a sibling close in age." Hearing the sadness in her voice he pulled her closer to him so she is flush next to him. If Ashara's leaving left her in a cloud of sadness, Oberyn's nearly left her in mourning, if mourning could be done for the living. Of course he knew he had been jubilant to see Oberyn leave. Then again, before Oberyn climbed atop his horse he threatened his life again. As it happened, he was still not accustomed to that rather unfortunate habit of his good-brother's.

With his arm around her he spoke into her ear. "That is not particularly fair, wife. I do know the love one can have for a sibling, no matter how much of a difference in age there is." Thinking back to his relationship with his siblings he is certain he loves them, but, he was far too grown to have much to do with Viserys before the war and now his dealings with him are more paternal than anything else. As for Daenerys, she was a girl child and even younger than his youngest child. He had only come to know of her after she was born. No, there was not much fraternal about his relationship with is siblings. He never put much thought into it before, and he supposes he never truly had a cause to, but, now he wonders if that is odd.

"I suppose you are correct…" She stops and turns to look at him and laughs.

"What?"

"I was just thinking."

Slowly, he asks, "About what?"

"If circumstances were different…" He was almost reluctant to ask; her expression worried him. Before she was solemn, now it looked as though laughter was threatening to bubble up from her.

She finally lets out a snicker, "If Viserys had been born a few years older and a girl child, forget that you married me, you might have married a sibling after all." She did laugh at that.

He almost chokes on the words he was going to say. He shook his head to clear out the vision of the image of a feminine version of Viserys his mind manufactured. Shuddering, looking at his wife and glaring, but it held very little heat, "By the gods, Elia, what a horrifying thought. There is nothing amusing about that at all." His wife's wit was dangerous.

She scoffs good-humoredly, "Oh, come now, you would sit here and tell me if you had a sister closer to your age that you would not have been married to her? After all…" She raises an eyebrow, "Is that not what Targaryen's do? Marry one another?"

He could not delude himself enough to think that had such a circumstance existed that would not have been a truth of his life. She looks at him curiously as if she really wanted to know his answer. For a brief moment he wonders if she asked the question to know whether or not his elopement of Lyanna had to do with her being as far away from the Targaryen's as possible.

His arms move to settle tighter on her waist and he moves to kiss her cheek. "Perhaps that may have been true, but, I am thoroughly thankful I had no sibling or close relative available at the time we married and the same holds true now."

That was the truth. For himself, looking at his wife, he knew she was just as different from the women of his family could have been. Though Elia had enough Targaryen blood, she was not Targaryen at all; her looks alone put paid to that. Her bearing, regal as it was, was Martell, not Targaryen. He remembers seeing his mother and his wife together, and though they got on well, the both of them had been unique. He cannot remember ever disliking having Elia as a wife. Though the thought of Lyanna still pains him, he remembers being enthralled by her; her vitality was not like that of anyone he had known. Had he married her; it would have been nothing like if he had already been married to a sister or close relative of his, either. If he married a sister he would have never had the children he did have.

He often remembers the relationship between his parents; how dangerous his father became and how unhappy his mother had been. No, even though the children are still young when the time came, and even though he has other reasons for it, he believes it is best not to continue the custom with them.

So lost in his thoughts he was ill prepared for when a weight which was not previously in his lap settling into it. He looked at his wife who perched herself on top of him in shock. Before he could ask what she was doing she spoke, "Just thankful?"

Though it was said in a jovial tone he could not help but internally cringe when he recalled the last words he said to her. While he is not fond of the game of giving compliments, but, with his own wife he should capable of doing better in that respect than offering "thankful". It is true that he was thankful that she had not left him entirely and accepted his son into their home, but, that does not encapsulate his sentiments at all.

It seemed she was still waiting, but, in the end he gave up looking for something appropriate and in trying to match her tone, he offers, "I did say 'thoroughly'."

She tried to stifle a laugh. In mock dismay she says, "Such a charmer my husband turned out to be."

"I never said –" He had to stifle a groan because the knock at the door, while Elia sighed, moving to sit next to him.

"Enter!" If his voice was a bit sharper than usual it mattered little to him. Ser Gerold ducked his head in. Seeing them together he began rather apologetically, 'I do beg your pardon, Your Graces for the interruption, but, I believe we have a few audiences to get through this afternoon."

Rhaegar sighed. He quite forgot that. In that moment, he wished he could forget it, but, he was who he was and he would do his duty. "Very well Ser Gerold. Let us go."

Turning to Elia, "Will you join me?" He had not often needed her to go with him to Court for hearing petitions, but, today, he wanted her to.

She smiled, "If you wish it."

"I do." He extended his arm and she took it. They walked through the doors together.

Chapter 15: Things change; things stay the same.