ELIA

What time she did not spend in the solar planning her daughter's rescue—with ravens being sent to Driftmark and Claw Isle to ensure Varys found no nearby friendly port—even taking her meals in that dower room, she spent in the sept, praying to Mother Rhoyne to watch over her daughter in this hour of her need. She also prayed to the Warrior, Father, and Crone—that her mission this day might be blessed. She prayed until her knees did ache from having done so for far too long. At which point, Elia rose—having filled the small candle rack before the mother with candles a flame with the prayers of her only child's safe return.

Rhaenys, where are you, my sweet little dragon? Seven protect you and watch over you.

As Elia left Dragonstone's sept, she traversed the gardens for the stables.

Rhaenys had hardly been missing for two days when news arrived from southernmost of the four ships they'd sent in the cardinal directions to locate her daughter, that they had spotted the approaching Westerlands Fleet. Elia had recalled what she could of the Westerlands Fleet—the smallest of all the fleets in Westeros, as she seemed to recall, being far outstripped by the Redwyne Fleet and Iron Fleet. However what worried Elia was that the Royal Fleet was hardly much larger than the Westerlands Fleet—after all there hardly seemed a reason to maintain a fleet of such a large size when the Redwynes were thoroughly loyal. So this impending naval battle—likely the last battle of this bloody war—would be a far more even-handed match than any of the previous battles had been since Ashford.

One raven had been sent to Hoster Tully upon Lord Mallister's urging. Lord Mallister had already proven his trust and honor by searching over the island with Ser Jaime when news of Rhaenys' disappearance had been fresh. Since there was tell of the approaching ships only being the Westerlands Fleet—with the Westerlands having stayed neutral until this moment, if she knew rightly—it would seem that Ser Jaime's assessment of his father were spot on. Even now she recalled hearing his argument:

Ser Jaime had said, "If my father sails his fleet after having sat the war out, he's likely looking for an opportunity to win friends amongst the new guard in King's Landing. He'll mean to siege the island, and leave none alive."

"And he would do so at our expense," her goodmother had agreed.

The very thought sent a chill down her spine. Lord Mallister insisted on writing the letter himself, though agreed completely to allowing the Queen and herself the sight of it. She read it thoroughly and found that Lord Mallister had written the entire thing as though he had returned to Seaguard. When she asked him about this, Lord Mallister replied that it had been agreed by Lord Hoster and himself to write in such a coded manner until the tentative alliance between King's Landing and Dragonstone could be more publicly proclaimed.

"I've informed him of the impending Westerlands Fleet and your suspicions that Lord Lannister is up to no good. We Riverlanders have a colloquial name we use for Lannisters that naught but a Riverlander ought to recognize. I have not yet written to him of your daughter's disappearance," mentioned Ser Mallister

Elia had urged, "If you could hold off on that I would much appreciate it. Mayhaps one of our ships has even now found her and is sailing swiftly to bring her to me."

Lord Jason then said, "I hope not, my Princess, if for no other reason than that your daughter might not get caught in the midst of a naval battle, for they're a senseless mess."

Seven preserve my little dragon…

Elia needed little help to mount her saddled white mare. She would proudly ride down to the docks atop her, with Elia dressed in one of her silken gowns of orange, yellow, red, and black colors. Elia disliked the dress because it made her look like a setting sun—and a setting sun was not fortuitous to the prospects of their coming battle. But it was the best gown available, and so it would have to do.

After nudging her mare along, she was joined by Ser Jaime, who was to ride with her to the docks for her protection. She had balked at the idea of needing protection, when Ser Jaime had first approached her with caution:

"Since the eunuch has left us, we cannot be sure of the island's safety outside of the castle. Varys may have spies who yet remain."

Elia had insisted, "If all goes well, this island, the traditional Targaryen stronghold, will be my daughter's seat of her Paramountcy. If Targaryens cannot ride to the docks in safety here, Ser Jaime, then Targaryens are safe nowhere. Let Varys' little birds do their worst! I know my duty, and shall do it in my daughter's stead. I will go to the docks and see our fleet off, with or without you, Ser!"

That had goaded him into a right and proper state, if his moody silence were any indication of his thoughts. The ride to the docks from the castle was a short one, but made all the quicker with the lovely little trot down the hill that they took. For a moment, Elia imagined herself back in Dorne, upon the back of a sand steed, rushing over the sands to the West of Sunspear. But just as soon as she had imagined such she was reminded of her true placement in Westeros as they came to the docks. It was here she reigned back her mare in order to walk gently to the head of the dockyard, where she could look out over the sailors of her fleet gathered amongst the creaky wooden planks of the docks.

Elia gave a look over the men, they seemed ready for a fight, having sat out the war this long… she wished that they would not see too much of a fight in the days to come, but knew her wish was as likely to come true as to sprout legs and be a horse. And so she began her speech, preferring to ride down from overtop so that she could be amongst the sailors and they might hear her words. Behind her she heard Ser Jaime swear, but Elia paid him little heed.

"To our sailing warriors most worthy, this day you venture forth to not only protect this island and its inhabitants, but to take the battle to meet a coward's force. Having waited so long to join the war, the Late Lord Lannister does himself little credit in choosing to sail to Dragonstone."

She heard more than a few laughs at her improvised name for Lord Tywin, and after waiting for a few moments for the laughter to die down, she then continued, "He means to take the island so as to curry favor with our cousin in King's Landing. To turn us into a mere footnote in the history he seeks to write. But we shall show such a man what becomes of dishonorable cowards!"

A general chorus of "Aye" rang out amongst the men. Hearing such spurred Elia to continue further.

"We will not see the island taken by a single Westerlands alley cat, let alone a lion who thinks himself so mighty for his mane. It is time we trim it some, to remind the Late Lord Lannister that beneath that mane, he too is just any other cat! Now go on, and bring defeat to the lion!"

A general roar rolled over the crowd, with arms rising up to receive her blessing and benediction, which she freely gave. As she did so, Elia, with some bemusement looked over to the young lion who was her guard and saw he looked at her with some amazement, as though he were but seeing her for the first time. It was then she felt a pain ripple through her back, the mare bucked, scaring off some of the sailors, and Elia felt herself lose her grasp of the reigns as she fell to the ground and in a haze she watched as Ser Jaime leaped from his mount, checked her, and when he felt sure she was fine, he charged after a man who held a bloody dagger in his hands. The man was being grabbed at by members of the crowd in an attempt to slow him down. Other sailors checked on herself, and as they called for a ship's maester, Elia felt the pain in her back increase and the edges of her sight grow dim and dark.