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One to Love

Chapter 21

A week later…

When they crossed the Boneway and entered the Red Mountains, Duncan Targaryen cried out in delight. "Look, look how lovely it is!"

And he pointed at the thick forests, green and shining with the dew, at the bright coloured spots of meads of wild flowers, at the blinking eyes of the hundred lakes.

Rhae looked at him and smiled. Her son knew only the Dornish sands and the carefully arranged magnificence of the Water Gardens. He had never known that there was such a thing as a mountain.

"Mother!" He tugged at her sleeve and when she didn't immediately leaned to see what he wanted to show her, he started to poke his head through the window to see better. Aelinor drew him back just in time and he sat grumbling.

A gush of wind entered the wheelhouse when Maekar opened the door and leaned on his saddle to peek inside. "Is everyone fine?" he asked. As much as Rhae assured everyone that she had fully recovered, he was still not convinced and there was something in Aelinor's posture that told him that she was in pain.

"Yes," Aelinor said.

"No!" Duncan cried. "I am not fine. I want to go out! I want to watch…"

Rhae sighed and looked down at Jaehaerys who was going to sleep in her lap. "Would you call Aegon?" she asked her father. "He can take Duncan with him for a while…"

"Give him here," Maekar said. Aelinor was about to call to the coachman but Maekar shook his head. "I'll take him," he said. Duncan immediately bolted for the door. Maekar leaned a bit more and grabbed him into a firm grip. With her heart in her mouth, Aelinor saw him lifting the boy in the air and placing him in front of himself on the horseback. Duncan immediately started pointing at various birds and high peaks, his eyes shining like two violet moons. Maekar patiently explained which each one of them was and where he was at loss, Ser Galend helped. Later, Duncan would relay all that to his mother.

Yes, Ser Galend thought. It was a good thing they decided to come with us and not wait for the Princess to recover. And the boy is an added prize. Maybe he will bring his parents and Maekar together. And it will certainly do the Seven Kingdoms some good to see that the future of the Targaryen dynasty is secured.

Duncan made the days go faster, with his inexhaustible curiosity and enthusiasm. The men took turns to take him along on their saddles and Maekar could swear that he had glimpsed a smile even at Ser Willem Wylde's face when it was his turn once. He hadn't known the old Kingsguard could smile. They returned the boy to the wheelhouse only for eating and sleeping.

But the nights… that was a different matter altogether. In the night, every doubt, the new grief and the old grievances came anew for all of them. Rhae was still reliving the horrific removal of her baby, her mind capable of replicating the pain to the last notch. Aegon was trying to imagine what their life in King's Landing would be like. Would they ever be able to make the others see them as something more than a pair of pampered and reckless children who had forsaken their duty for feelings? They were both scared of how things with Daella would be like. If she were happy, it would have been easier… but they knew that their actions had cost her. Aelinor couldn't sleep, tormented by the pain she didn't take anything against because she feared losing the clarity of her mind more than anything, so she had plenty of time to grieve for Rhaegel, think of the past and consider everything that each of them could have done differently. Should have done differently. Maekar swung between grief and remorse, and anger for everything that had happened to all of them, to him and because of him. And now he'd face his punishment… that thrice damned throne he did not even want. Maybe I'll be lucky and die before Aerys, he thought but no, he had no right to hope even for this. The less time Daeron and Aerion had to ruin Westeros, the better. Maybe I am the reason they are the way they are. He still remembered vividly those first years, how he had felt about the marriage not of his choosing, the wife not of his choosing and the children she was about to give him. He'd been scared that Naeryne would give birth to monsters because of the hatred he felt for their mother and them… and himself, for letting his father and the Dornish seer break him. Well, I guess it turned out to be true. Just not in the most obvious way. Looking at Aegon and Rhae, he was acutely aware that he could have been his son, had he had the courage… or the irresponsibility. The memories of Baelor came back more often now, too, and he suspected it had something to do with Duncan, this little Baelor look-alike.

"Aren't you going to sleep?" Ser Galend asked softly, going near the window in Lord Dondarrion's bedchamber which the Lord of Blackhaven had hastily given up to Maekar at their arrival too soon after the courier announcing it.

Maekar shook his head. "You can go to bed, though," he said. "There is no need to stay awake because of me."

I bet there is, Ser Galend thought. In the last few weeks, the two of them had fallen back to their old rapport with surprising ease and it was obvious to him that the last thing the Prince needed was to be left alone to ponder over everything that had gone wrong. Of course, there was nothing that could be done – even now, when he was no longer young, Maekar had too much energy that a whole day of riding could not exhaust. Sooner or later, he would be left alone with his grim thoughts.

Or maybe not. Suddenly, the Queen stood at the door, garbed in a simple white robe. Her silver hair was tumbling over her shoulders, her face recently washed. She was as beautiful as ever, yet she looked older than her years and terribly weary. He was not surprised to see her here – she had been coming to Maekar's chamber each night in whatever castle they were spending the night. Alas, Ser Galend could bet it was not for the same purpose she had visited her brother's room nightly when they had been young. He remembered them as they had been then – bright and imbued with promise and hope.

"Don't," Maekar snapped.

"What?"

"You pitied us. Don't do that."

"I most certainly did not."

Maekar raised an eyebrow. "Really?" he asked sarcastically.

His old companion didn't bat an eyelid. "I save my pity for those who truly need it, for mothers with hungry babes to feed, for those ill beggars we saw at the castle gate, for those suffering from grey scale and women with no man to protect them. You and Her Grace may be miserable but misery is much easier to bear in a castle."

Which did not mean that he had to like what had happened with them, how their lives had turned out. But no, he did not pity them.

Aelinor stared at him, stunned. Maekar shook his head. "I wonder how I survived all this time without you to put things in perspective," he said.

"Anything for my lord," Ser Galend said tartly.

"Very well," Maekar said. "You can go to bed now. Rest well, for we are leaving at dawn."

Ser Galend bowed and softly closed the door behind him. Aelinor sat in front of the fireplace. Maekar stood at the window, staring unseeingly in the darkness beneath him. This night, there were almost no stars.

"You know, that was what I kept telling myself for years," Aelinor suddenly spoke. "That there were people far worse off than me who were truly deserving of compassion."

He turned to look at her but the dim light of the few candles didn't let him see her face too clearly. "Did it help?"

"Sometimes. When it did, I was grateful."

"And when it didn't?"

She smiled weakly. "When it didn't, I couldn't help but think that if I had been with you, things would have been different. Better. Stupid, I know, but that's what I keep thinking until I turned twenty."

He went to the table and took the big decanter that had been left there. Obviously, Lord Dondarrion preferred fresh water to wine and since they were close to the mountains, there was plenty of that here, brought by pipes. Maekar himself liked having water in his rooms instead of wine; now he poured a goblet for Aelinor and another for himself.

"Now, it's the other way around," he said, taking in the tiredness of her face, the pain she was still trying to hide. He was almost sure that under the robe, her leg and hip had started deforming. Aging made everything harder. It shamed him now to remember how he had once resented her, how he had blamed her for the fact that whenever she appeared, his love for Naeryne simply disappeared. When she was at King's Landing and I at Summerhall, it was easy to convince myself that I was over her, that I overcame my feelings for her, that I loved Naeryne now. Yet, it had been only a painful scab on his young, fiery and yearning heart. "Now, it's the other way around. We just missed each other by twenty years."

He spoke evenly, with some detached surprise. They were both so weary. Maybe too weary to care any more. Twenty years was such a long time.

"May I stay?" Aelinor asked, as she did every night, and he nodded. As warped as their relationship had become, they still felt soothed around each other. They would sit in front of the flames silently until they were too exhausted to think or feel anything. Then, she would leave and they would have a few hours rest before going on their way to King's Landing at dawn.

Bone-tired and sick of everything or not, with great privileges came great responsibilities.

A few days later…

It was the late afternoon when they entered King's Landing. Since there was still an official mourning, there was no welcoming ceremony. That suited them just fine – carpets and banners, and crowds throwing flowers would delay them for some hours and by now, everyone just wanted a bath and bed. Still, while their cavalcade was crossing the city, word spread and people went into the streets, staring at their young prince and his beautiful princess, cheering for the lovely children staring at them curiously. Duncan was turning this way and that, his eyes impossibly wide. Aegon held him firm, otherwise the boy would have slithered out of his grasp with all this fidgeting. Rhae had left the wheelhouse and was now atop her magnificent Lightfoot, Jaehaerys stirring in her arms. She was smiling and nodding, instructing her maid to give alms. Still, behind the smile, her apprehension grew. The Red Keep was getting near. Soon, she'd pass through the gates and see faces of people she loved… and people she hated… and she'd have to stand her ground and prove she was no longer the reckless girl they had last seen…

Aegon touched her hand and she smiled at him. It was worth it, she thought. Love is always worth it. To have someone who understood her without words, to share her world with him – that was what it all had been about.

In the Red Keep, Daella was the first person they encountered. She was talking to a courtier, shaking her head in reproach. She looked up and smiled at them but immediately went back to her conversation. Suddenly, she looked up again and gave a small cry before running up to them.

And stop, petrified, at the sight of the boy staring at her curiously, the boy with dark hair, like a raven wing, and violet eyes like the deepest shade of dawn. The boy who resembled her. Rhae flushed.

"Daella, I…"

Her sister raised a hand to stop her. "Please. Don't."

A moment later, she smiled. "Welcome home, Rhae," she said and hugged her. "Welcome, both of you. I am so happy to see you."

She sounded sincere. She was sincere. Still, as she was walking toward her father and Aemon, her mouth quivered, just for a moment. Aemon held her hand a bit longer.

"I am all right," she said.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded but tears welled up in her eyes. "My son would have been his age now."

He stroked her hand. There was nothing to say, nothing at all.

Still, being Daella, she refused to let bad feelings overcome her. She had been waiting for this moment for so long. And as she was looking at the little Duncan who could be easily mistaken for hers, at the pretty Rhaelle who had fallen asleep in her nursemaid's arms, at the small bundle that practically hid the precious being inside from view, she felt a stony resolve fill her. One day, she would have a child of her own. She would have a husband she could live with. One day… one day…

"Let's go home," she turned to everyone and they entered the inside of the Red Keep.

The End

A. N. This story was originally planned as being two or three chapters long. As it grew and spread, I found out that I was constantly writing a spinoff or three. As of now, those are: A Veil of Prophecy, A Night in the Red Keep, and Lost and Found. I am currently writing something like a follow-up, A Dragon in Chains. My other Targaryen fics are The Death of a King, Seven Thoughts, Seven Tears, and Dragons Die.