The passing of time
Year 3015 of the Third Age was an important year for Elia and Théodred. Not only did it mark the first year in their reign as the King and Queen consort of Rohan, it also meant that ten years had passed since that fateful day when he had saved her, Rhaenys and Aegon from a horrible death by the order of Tywin Lannister, all to ensure that his golden Cersei got the crown of a queen.
"A spear may be a strange choice to celebrate the passing of time, but it works for you, my dearest King."
Elia had commissioned a new spear for her husband, made in study oak for strength. and he in turn gifted her a new dagger for self-defense.
"Even a simple dagger can become deadly with a lucky strike, so I thought it could match how Westeros keeps underestimating Dorne, besorg."
She liked the meaning behind his choice, and found it indeed suitable to her homeland as well. Honestly, Elia would not surprised if Arianne or her niece's own successor, hopefully the firstborn child of Arianne unless she would find herself with the second child as heir for some unfortunate reason, would somehow find a way to break away from the Iron Throne and make Dorne its own independent country again.
Yet things were not all well even if they would desire differently, reports of more orcs trying to steal any black horses they could find was not uncommon now, and it was without doubt a sign of what would come within the next few years.
"How is your father, Elia? Is he still being ill?"
Since a few days past the vernal equinox this year, Ihsan had started to show more and more signs that he was no longer a young man. His asthma would often act up, and he remained often in bed when he felt too tired to do much outside reading and writing on whatever he was working on.
"He is...better for now, but I am not sure if we can trust that he will still be alive when we celebrate fifteen years together."
In all honesty, Elia would prefer her father to be allowed to pass away peacefully in sleep before the war against Mordor happened. Ihsan was 69 years old this year, and had witnessed a lot of events where the crown had to fight against uprisings and the sort. After all, how many widowers in his very limited age group could boast of having gotten his newest grandchild only two weeks before?
"Loreza, after yet another Princess of Dorne before the Conquest, we could trust my brother to choose strong names for the daughters Ellaria have given him!" she thought for herself as she recalled the whole family waiting together to give a welcoming arrival of her newest niece.
Sixteen! Sixteen grandchildren in total from Doran, Elia and Oberyn since that day when Oberyn had slept with Obara's mother in Oldtown and starting the growing line of grandchildren for their parents. No doubt that her late mother Aria would be smirking in pride somewhere in the afterlife as well, agreeing with her still living husband over the joy of the future for their family, happy over that she was blessed with five grandsons and eleven granddaughters, for all of that the eight daughters of Oberyn were born on the wrong side of the blankets.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
A few days ride away from Edoras, a different scene was happening:
Despite being the daughter and widow of two different Lord Paramount, even Lysa was surprised by how well she had adjusted to the very contrasting lifestyle in Rohan, since she now was formally betrothed to Tirwald through a handfasting ceremony at the coronation and expected to marry in September once the harvest had been taken care of. As such, her future father-in-law had suggested that perhaps she actually had lived somewhere in Middle-earth in a previous life, and how this may be the reason to why she could feel so out of place in Westeros.
"Imagine the confusion over the different lifestyle, the religion and the expectations that you were trained to live up to. Even if your soul did not remember your previous life, I think a personality could still be affected in some way even in the following life."
That... was surprisingly logical, Lysa agreed when she got to think it over. Here in Rohan, neither Celia or Amanda was treated differently for their handicaps. If they could still be useful in some way, then they would learn a craft that would help them survive.
"Granny, granny, show us more of the knitting, please!" Amanda was heard requesting Tirwald's stepmother where she was sitting with Celia and Amanda in the corner of the hall where the spinning, weaving and sewing was being made, and the older woman sounded like she could not hide a smile at the request.
"Eorl, no! The fire is not a toy," Tirwald scolded their son gently, pulling the boy away since Eorl once again proved that he refused to be still now when he had learned the art of crawling. Smiling as her betrothed watched Eorl so he did not come near the hearth again, Lysa opened the newest letter from Edmure, which had arrived with a messenger rider from Sunspear not even an hour ago.
"Oh dear. One important military commander in Westeros became another addition to the growing numbers of Westerosi killed by the orcs that tends to show up randomly in the mines of the Westerlands, not someone serving my brother but one from the Reach."
Lord Randyll Tarly was a bit unexpected, though, but Lysa guessed that he had thought himself a survivor after living through the Rebellion that put Robert Baratheon on the Iron Throne and the failed rebellion that put an end on the Ironborn culture as well. But orcs were not humans, they would not fight in the same expected manner.
"Is it good or bad for the alliance between Dorne and Rohan, Lysa?"
No, it was the Reach who lost one of their finest military commanders and would suffer his absence if they would end up needing to gather an army again. From what she knew, ten-year-old Samwell Tarly was his father's exact opposite in character, and should his younger brother Dickon take after their now late father or wanting to leave their home Horn Hill once Samwell was married with a family of his own, well, the Reach would have to wait until that he was a legal adult to test any skills of the younger Tarly son.
"Oh well. Might as well see this death as a sign of the changing times. Two major rebellions only seven years apart cost a high number of lives in battle, and the drought in the Westerlands is also affecting the whole of Westeros despite that many may not wish to admit it."
Her latest letter from Catelyn mentioned all the refugees from the Westerlands that arrived to the North in the hope of building a new life there, and how Eddard Stark was a bit at a loss in how to deal with this whole situation. Yes, he did not like the Lannisters, but on the other hand, he wanted to avoid being accused of stealing the smallfolk that belonged to the Westerlands.
Well, Lysa did not care what her sister and brother-in-law ended up doing. She was busy making a new life for herself and her three children here in Rohan, under the protection of House Martell. Far away from Westeros and their drama.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Since becoming the new ruling couple of Rohan, it was not as often Elia and Théodred could come to Sunspear and the Old palace where the Martells lived. But their four children could still do that, eager to be with their maternal relatives at chosen times across the year.
"Abuelo, abuelo, wake up."
Aégnor gently poked Ihsan on the arm, to see if he could wake up his maternal grandfather from the nap they all had taken during the afternoon to escape the heat of the sun.
"Mm."
The former Prince consort moved around as a sign of waking up, though he did not feel for leaving the bed yet. Most of the daytime nowadays, he tried to not tire himself out too much in various ways. If this was an unspoken message from his beloved Aria that he would soon join her in the afterlife, then he would not resist. Death came for everyone at some point, after all.
"Abuelo, can you read for us?" Andréth asked sweetly, holding up a picture book of Ihsan's own making that was rather well-used now after so many of their older cousins.
"I see no reason why, if you could just bring me a few more pillows to lean against, it would be comfortable for us all."
The royal twins of Rohan went to the task at once, Aegon offering to bring some cold drinks since his half-siblings could still sometimes become lost in the palace if they were unsure of where they might be.
Then Ihsan realized that one of the children born from his daughter was nowhere in sight.
"Rhaenys? Where are you?"
A soft singing revealed her to be seated in the shadow out on the balcony to his bedchamber, and the lyrics well the adult voice, hinted to that ít was Mara who temporarily had taken over the body of her current reincarnation.
"I knew it. I have heard the ancient holy songs to the Gods of Kemet in the winds coming from north of the Red Mountains. Some of my siblings, born to my father's other consorts and concubines, have been reborn in this generation as well."
That surprised Ihsan, who had long stopped expecting things to make sense ever since the reveal of the true origins of House Martell.
"If I may be allowed to ask, Princess, then where?"
Rhaenys pointed on a map of Westeros on the opposite wall, and some faint golden spots arrived by some small use of magic:
Four in King's Landing, and then five others at the Stormlands, four in Storm's End and one at Tarth.
"Four of the six royal children. Their four Baratheon cousins both in and outside the marriage bed, alongside the oldest daughter of House Tarth."
Oh, great. Ihsan could already imagine an incoming headache over this new information that the founding mother of House Martell had been able to sense. Yet somehow he was not surprised. The portal which had enabled his second son-in-law to save Elia and her children from death ten years ago, had undoubtedly been a sign that Mara would soon be joined by a few of her once-siblings again a new life.
"May Mother Rhoyne protect them from dangers, then. For I dread that they may be dragged into the coming war against Sauron."
Rhaenys looked at her grandfather, her black eyes still amber as a sign that Mara would not let go of the body really yet.
"The descendant of Neith will help you all in some way, I am trusting him."
The communication with Suleiman was rare, because of the risks of being found out by Khamûl, but he had allowed the Martells to know that he intended to rebel against Sauron and come to the aid against the Dark Lord, if only he could match the timing well.
"May your trust be well-founded, Princess."
Rhaenys eyes returned to their common dark colour and she blinked slightly, confused over why she was out on the balcony instead of sleeping in the bed as she last recalled.
"You sought out the cooling winds from the sea as you sleep-walked for a few moments, sweetling," Ihsan told her in a calming manner, and she was satisfied with that statement. In a way it could very well be true, it was a very hot day so everyone sought out shade and some other way to cool down.
"Abuelo, Rhaenys, here are more pillows and cold drinks for all of us."
Soon the others among the younger Martells and Sand Snakes arrived as well, Eliana even carrying little Loreza from the nursery so the newest family member would be able to hear the tales while still asleep, and Ihsan spent the rest of the afternoon in a manner that he always had enjoyed over the years:
Treasuring every moment he could have with his living children and grandchildren, since he did not know when his time here in the living world would come to its end.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Author note: Ihsan and his late wife Aria Martell, the former Princess of Dorne, is both born in 224 A.C, so he would be pretty old in this pre-modern setting
I intend to do a few time-ships again in the coming chapters because I want to get closer to the start of the War of the Ring soon, starting with year 286 A.C where a major "first meetings" drama will happen at Winterfell with the Stark kids, their Arryn cousins and the royal Baratheon children because Robert wants Argella to meet Robb before their actual wedding