WARNING: The actual 14th chapter of this story is the epilogue of another story, Dragons Die. I just didn't think that posting the same chapter in two different stories was the right thing to do. Still, I suggest that you go over there and have a look before proceeding.

Love to Live

Close to Love

"What are you going to say if I ask you?"

Aelinor looked up from her needlework and closed her eyes for a moment. Only now, when she wasn't looking at the green scarf did she realize how tired her eyes had become. Lately, she was spending much time on her two favourite pastimes – reading and embroidering. After three years of spring, summer had come too fast, too abruptly, catching everyone unprepared. Aelinor's body had gotten accustomed to the more moderate weather of late spring and the sudden move to almost unbearable heat and air that was suffocating with its own humidity sapped her energy, making her lightheaded and constantly tired, her limbs heavy and immobile. She barely had the strength to listen to Naeryn's septa's complaints and certainly had none to spare to insist that her daughter behaved like a lady. Naeryn usually did, so some little transgressions could be forgiven. And besides, it would not matter when Naeryn grew up.

Once again, Aelinor firmly forbade herself to harbor such thoughts. Her daughter might be a bastard, and a malformed one, but she was still her daughter, with some of the best blood in Dorne flowing through her veins. Surely that would count for something.

And now Aemon was being difficult again. They were happy, weren't they? Why did he need to spoil it by insisting that she wed him? Yes, she would… one day. But the very idea of a wedding invoked horror that she could not chase over, something primal, crawling up her skin, freezing her blood. And there was this other fear. Rationally, she knew that no one was to blame for Naeryn's infirmity, that it was surely just a tragic accident. But the idea of giving birth ever again was terrifying nonetheless. It was bad enough to hold her breath till the very moment her goodsisters delivered their children. She could not live through it for herself.

"Aemon… Can't you wait for a while?"

He didn't answer immediately, to Aelinor's surprise. She had expected that he'd say he had waited for more than two years. It now occurred to her that he hadn't sounded too hopeful. Am I taking his hope away, she wondered. She didn't want to do this to him. She loved him. She wanted to wed him. Just not yet.

She rose and went to the diamond-paned window overlooking a sprawling garden. Bright flowers in all shades made her smile. She had chosen most of them herself without knowing that one day, she'd live here. With Aemon. When the time had come to furnish the rooms in the new castle, New Star, they had already been together, so Aelinor had been left to do everything just as she desired – Aemon hadn't particularly cared. All he had wanted was a functional great hall and a hard surface on the bed. As long as he had a pillow under his head, he didn't mind whether it was hard or soft, so Aelinor had decorated their chambers in her favourite red and gold. Her solar was blue and silver, though, like the star Aemon had named his new home after. You're my star, he often murmured late at night when they lay in their bed, listening to the sea whispering its dark-blue secret to the moon. But of late, he had been strangely silent. Maybe she hadn't noticed because of her fatigue – and also because he was as tender as always to Naeryn.

"Until what time?" he finally asked. "Aelinor, I'm a patient man. But it's been years already – and we're just where we started."

She didn't turn round – she did not want him to see her distraught face. He wasn't saying the truth – and he knew it. Since those first days when they had tentatively started to believe in a good and bright future once again – they had come a long way. They lived as if they were husband and wife and that was enough for her. For a while, it had been enough for him as well.

"I am trying, Aemon. I am. It's just…"

"I know," he sighed and came close to hold her. "Fear cannot be reasoned with. In this, it's so close to love."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm so glad you understand," she murmured.

How could he not? She was not the only one who lived with all the fears of her past. "I do," he said. "And I'm trying to convince my patience as well," he added jokingly, trying to make light of the matter. Now, with her so close and her cheek against his palm, he realized that she was not well indeed. All of a sudden, Aemon wished to take it all back. What did it matter whether they wed now or in another five years? They were happy and in love.

Her cheek was hot in his cupped palm. The indisposition she had been complaining of seemed to be real. He had thought it was an attempt to avoid this very conversation. But her face was very hot, very pale, and very bloated, just like her hands. Maybe she has the swelling sickness, he thought. When she had first mentioned that she was unwell, he had entertained the thought that she was with child which would make the decision for her. He knew her well enough to know that no matter her fears, she would not try to get rid of a child that she had already conceived. But her flux had come upon her shortly after, taking his hopes with him. She had not gotten better, though. I have to send Maester Loran to see her. The thought of her being actually sick was unbearable. He refused to even consider the fact that the swelling sickness was known to kill people.

Aelinor moved slightly, burying her face deeper against him. "And what does your patience tell you?" she asked. To his relief, there was a teasing note in her voice.

"Hurry up, Aelinor, hurry up. Aemon is getting older with each passing day. And Aelinor? You aren't getting any younger either."

She laughed softly. "Your patience is getting impatient. That was the moment you were supposed to tell me that you can't live without me."

"You want me to lie?"

She drew back and flicked him across the chest. "You are a bad song material, Aemon Targaryen."

"A terrible one," he agreed. "But a liar, I am not. Being unable to live without you and Naeryn? I cannot say it. Because I can live without you two. But I don't want to."

They locked eyes, silently. Aelinor reached over and stroked his cheek. "Soon, Aemon," she promised. "I swear, no matter what it takes, we will be wed soon. You've been waiting for so long. Don't give up on me now."

He stared at her intently, trying to gauge the sincerity of her reply. Deep inside, he knew that no matter whether she believed what she said, he'd wait. He had no other choice. Five years into the relationship, his feelings for her had only grown. He felt comfortable with her. Accepted as he was, instead of feeling that he should change to match Melyne's expectations. With Aelinor, happiness was not the marked moments of passion and mindless elation he still remembered so brightly with Melyne, it was a small everyday thing – a hint of a smile, a long discussion about politics and history, Naeryn's conspiratorial grin when he looked away, pretending to not have seen her when she returned from her escapades in apple garden, her hand all sticky and her hair flying in all directions… Even if Aelinor was lying, she was doing it so she would not lose him. Aemon did not doubt that she wanted the same future he wanted for them.

"Come on," Aelinor said. "I'll order a bath. You can keep me company if you'd like."

One of the curious features at the New Star was the mechanism leading water from a nearby stream straight to their bedchamber. In most castles, the lord didn't have a personal bathchamber. But cool baths had always soothed Aemon's sensitive skin and Aelinor quite enjoyed not having to make the long journey from the baths to her own chamber or sidestep the wet spaces on the carpet.

He smiled and accepted her proposal of peace. To his relief, the anxiety in her eyes melted away and she accepted the hand he held out. One day, he thought. One day, love will overcome fear. I don't care whether you believe it or you're lying to me. I'll make it come true. I'll save you from yourself, Aelinor Gargalen. I'll save you so I can have you.