Chapter 2

The rustling of sheets woke her up, like they usually did in the mornings. Elia's eyes opened and looked to her husband's side. He was up, sitting beside her on their marriage bed, naked except for the blanket and sheets that covered him below the waist. Elia observed him more as her senses returned to her. He was just sitting there, face buried deep in his palms, his lean back etched with gooseprickles. Nightmares again, she wondered. She pulled her hand from under the sheets and gently touched his back. "Rhaegar," she called.

Rhaegar's head rose from his palms. He looked down at her, and his face arranged into a smile. That was when her suspicions were confirmed. He has dreamed again. His handsome face was still crinkled with unease, a far cry from how people outside the bedchamber saw and remembered him. To the world her husband was the strong and wise Crown Prince, a man of with a voice of iron who inspired loyalty like a man draws breath. No one knew this side of Rhaegar though, no one except Elia. She gave him a sympathetic look, asking him to share.

"Are you well Elia," he asked instead.

He always asks that. She smiled as she rose up, the sheets dropping and shrugging off from her body. Rhaegar's eyes went to her breasts, then moved away, looking down at his lap.

"Bad dreams?" She asked.

Rhaegar nodded, and her eyes turned soft. "The same ones," she asked. Rhaegar nodded again. Elia could tell that he wasn't telling the whole truth. The troubled look on his otherwise strong face was genuine though, and that made her reach out. Elia's eyes stayed on him as she slid closer. She moved her right hand and placed it around the back of his neck, under his long silver hair. She caressed him with her warm fingers for comfort, wordlessly asking him to talk to her. Soon enough his eyes loosened and with a shuddering breath he leaned into her. She moved her hand into his hair as he kissed her cheek, then her shoulder, before resting his face on it. She shivered when his cold face touched her shoulder. His arm moved to encircle her in an embrace. Elia smiled when he did that.

"Don't you ever leave me my lady," he whispered. He used to say that often as well, whenever he was troubled.

"I won't my love," she replied. "Though I am a bit hurt. You are having bad dreams on the same night we made love. What am I to make of that?"

Rhaegar snorted. "You were wonderful, Elia, like always. Don't worry about me."

Always the gallant knight, my husband. "What can I do," she asked instead. Rhaegar moved up and kissed her deep on the lips, and for a moment she was in pure bliss. "You don't need to do anything my love," he said gratefully. Elia sensed the honesty in his voice but still his response made her bristle. Elia watched him as he threw off his sheets and climbed out of their bed. "I hope we made a new baby last night," he said putting on his smallclothes. "Rhaenys needs a brother, or a sister."

"I hope so too," Elia made herself smile, hoping that his seed overcomes her frail constitution and quickens, like it had when they had made Rhaenys together. "I don't want to pry, Rhaegar..."

"We are husband and wife my lady," Rhaegar looked back at her. "You can never pry."

"Tell me about your dreams then," she tried for an umpteenth time, as Rhaegar enclosed himself in a black robe. "We are man and wife as you said. I want to know more about what troubles you so much." In response he moved back to their bed to kiss her again. This time she didn't return it.

"As I have often said, you have no need to trouble yourself with my nonsense, Elia," he said. He kissed her forehead and moved back to stand straight on the floor. Elia watched as he threw open the chamber window, and a gust of cold wind flew in.

His gaze turned back to Elia. "My troubles are mine to redress, you don't need to worry about it."

Elia didn't want to fight. They had had this talk several times, whenever Rhaegar's secrecy had become too much for her to handle. "Why so my prince," she asked.

Rhaegar had that look again, the princely face that politely told the listener to back off. Elia hated that look, because of late it was she who had been the one on its receiving end, the only one who cared enough to 'pry'. "Are the secrets of the Crown Prince too much for a homely woman like me," she heard herself say, and after a moment she realized what she had just uttered. She trained her face into a smile, intending to play it off as a joke.

Rhaegar's face lost that look. He looked affronted. "Don't call yourself that."

Elia got out of her bed. She put on her smallclothes and her robe, and then looked her husband in the eyes. "I am not calling myself that," she spoke. "I know I am no homely woman, I am the Princess of Dorne, the future queen, your lawful wife. That means something, but at times I feel that you seem to forget that."

"You know that is not true Elia," Rhaegar said. "You know I love you, you are very important to me."

"If that was true, then you'd be honest with me."

"I am always honest with you."

"You hide things from me," she said. "And that makes me wonder what else you are hiding. What do you discuss in those late night talks with your Kingsguard, and your secret meetings with those Essosi?" She caught the look on his face. "What? You think I don't know about them? Don't insult my intelligence, my Prince."

"I wonder what else is there? You had told me about your nightmares once. I remember that night." She recalled. Rhaegar believed his dreams to be foretellings, and despite her skepticism Elia was ready to know more and share his concerns. Not Rhaegar though. She knew he didn't view her as a ….homely woman. He thought he was protecting her, like the knights from the fairy tales protect innocent virgin maidens. Elia was not a maiden though, nor was she foolish, she was a Princess of Dorne, and treatment like this from her own husband was downright insulting.

Had she and Rhaegar been one of those married couples who despised each other, then she'd have understood, but they weren't. Sure, their marriage hadn't started with the passion which'd be sung of in the songs, but with time it had grown, the trust, the love, and the passion too. There was strength in their bond, which they had built out of nothing, like two mature adults. Slowly but steadily they had shared more and more of their lives with one another, testing each others' boundaries, knowing each other's virtues and vices, likes and dislikes, desires and insecurities. Love had come on its own in the process, and had bloomed to become something precious. That love had helped her order her life, and when Rhaenys had come along the way she had felt as content as she could ever be.

That precious love was what used to come at stake for Elia every time Rhaegar hid things from her. His secrecy and his dreams; she could have perhaps ignored them, had it not been for the severe effect they used to have on him. They troubled him immensely as she could see, and it broke her heart to see him like that, especially with her not being able to help him.

"One day," Rhaegar said.

"What?"

"One day, I will tell you everything," Rhaegar spoke. "You have to understand, my love, we Targaryens, we have to deal with matters that no one else does. The blood of the dragon runs in us." He had told her that as well, so Elia remained unmoved. "Hurting you has never been my motive," he confessed, "nor do I think you weak. You are one of the strongest persons I know Elia, and you are my wife. But this," he hesitated. "There are things in the world that you won't believe, nor will any other sane person."

"What do you mean by 'sane'," Elia asked, remembering her mad good father.

"Trust me on this one Elia," he said, pleading. "For the sake of our time together, trust me."

Elia couldn't utter another word. She was defeated. Defeated by love. "I will go to the nursery to check on Rhaenys, see if she has woken up," she said instead.

Elia could hear her cooing as she was descending the winding staircase leading to the nursery. A maid was tending to her daughter, a toddler in her second year. She was a splitting image of Elia with the robustness of her father. The child squealed in delight when she saw her mother walking towards her. It was Elia's favorite sound in the world, for the last one and a half year since Rhaenys was born. She had labored for half a day to bring her into the world. It nearly killed her, but it was worth it. Elia had a happy child, the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. Laughing with joy Elia lifted her up and gave a kiss on her cheek, while Rhaenys pawed at Elia face with her little hands. The thoughts of her secretive husband started getting scarce already. Rhaegar came to meet Rhaenys as well but left shortly after for his routines. Elia freshened up and got dressed in a gown of black, red, and gold; ready for the day.

She descended the winding stairs and walked out of the tower into the open. Rhaenys was also with her, being carried by one of her handmaidens. The sun had risen above the walls of Maegor's Holdfast, bathing the courtyard with yellow sunlight. Her ladies-in-waiting had already gathered in the Maidenvault. Behind them the breakfast table was being set. They all approached Elia on seeing her and greeted her with pleasantries about mornings and springs. Many even cheeks kissed and pulled Rhaenys's cheeks. Just a stern look from Elia would have made them leave Rhaenys alone. But her daughter was liking it, so Elia didn't mind. Most of what these girls did was often harmless anyway. They were child-women between ages of twelve and eighteen, innocent at heart and eager to please the elders, but always intent on one-uping each other, often in mean ways. They'll learn with time. And if the gods are good it will be a kind lesson.

Not all of them were like that however. There was Myra Mooton, Bella Estermont, and some others who liked to keep to themselves. And of course there was Ashara Dayne, sister of the Sword of the Morning and the delight of Red Keep, and perhaps the only woman here whom Elia considered a friend. Elia had known Ashara ever since she was a girl at play in the Water Gardens. Ashara was seventeen, three years junior to Elia, but their time together in Dorne had brought them close.

Elia noted Ashara's absence when they had all taken their seats. She asked about her whereabouts.

"I don't know," Alerie Blackmont shrugged. "I didn't see her either this morning."

"That's because you sleep like a cow," said Falyse Stokeworth without any subtlety whatsoever, as Elia was tying a napkin around Rhaenys's neck. "You should see her Princess," Falyse addressed Elia. "She's always the last one to wake up." Falyse's pinched face broke into simmering yet mean laughter and her minions joined in. Rhaenys heard them and started her own squeals of delight in mimicry. Elia didn't like that at all.

"What is so wrong with that? She's here in time isn't she," Elia said sternly. That was how it was amongst them, Falyse Stokeworth was the leader of the Crownlanders, while Alerie Blackmont represented the Dornish. Elia was bored to tears of this rivalry. Her eyes went to Falyse's right side, where her younger sister Lollys was sitting quietly, like a plump scared little thing that she was. One of these days I mean to do something for her.

Falyse struggled to come up with a reply. "You should see her your grace. The way she snores."

"I don't snore!" Alerie said, outraged. "I have never snored in my life. Know your place Lady Pinchface!"

"Why you.."

"Enough," Elia chided, and the young ladies quieted down. "You all are unbelievable. I had asked a simple enough question. Can someone tell me about the whereabouts of Lady Dayne?"

"Who knows," Myla Toland spoke for the first time. "May be she is with Ser Myles. Perhaps he did win her over after all." The girls around her giggled. It was common knowledge that the young knight of House Velaryon desired Ashara.

They loaded their dishes with food; porridge and milk with honey, fruit, boiled eggs and fish. Elia mashed up some fruit and eggs for Rhaenys. Her milk teeth were yet to grow out fully, so hard food was out of question for her.

A while later Ashara finally appeared at the door. Elia marveled at the young Lady Dayne as she walked towards them, lovely and graceful as always. She had taken some time to groom her hair, and the violet dress she wore brought out her eyes.

"Where were you," Alerie Blackmont asked sweetly. "Our Princess was looking for you everywhere."

"Was she now? I am not that late," said Ashara. She played with Rhaenys's hair as she passed by, walking around Elia to sit on her left.

"Well you are never late, in general." Alerie's voice was dangerously sweet. "And clearly you have been out of Maegor's Holdfast. Your shoes are all dirty." Elia looked down at Ashara's shoes. Except for some tiny specks of dirt she didn't see anything wrong. "Perhaps," Alerie continued, "you were late because someone special took your...time?"

Ashara raised an eyebrow, but then her eyes sparked in mischief. "Why yes," she said cheerfully. "My brother."

"Your brother?" Alerie sputtered.

"Yes sweet Alerie," Ashara's replied jauntily. "I got a raven scroll from him this morning. He is in Harrenhal remember? He sent a letter from there to me along with one addressed to the Prince."

"How sweet of him," Elia said as she fed Rhaenys some blood orange. "And here Doran writes to me only when his maester reminds him to."

"He does have an expensive wife, Prince Doran," Celia Fowler chirped in. "One can't blame him."

Elia gave her a look, and the girl paled and rescinded. "What did brave Ser Arthur write?"

"Mostly about himself," Ashara's voice turned whimsical as she started placing food on her plate. "How safe his journey was, how tall the towers of Harrenhal rise up in the sky, how beautiful the women in the Riverlands are, and how lovely the realm looks during early spring." A look of mischief again passed through her face."Oh and I almost forgot," she added very non-chalantly, "there is going to be a great tourney in Harrenhal."

"What!?" A collective shout came from around the table. Ashara looked up from her breakfast. "What," she asked, looking around in mock confusion.

Elia almost laughed out loud. She of course herself knew all about it. It was Rhaegar's idea after all. The great tourney would serve as a front where he'd talk to all the great lords about the madness of her goodfather, and devise a plan for the future.

"What tourney," Jenny Rosby asked.

"Oh that! Lord Whent has decided to organise a tourney, to show how prosperous his house has become in the last twenty years since he received the late King's favor. All the Lords and knights of the Seven Kingdoms have been invited. It'd be quite an event."

The eyes of the girls lit up. "Will we be allowed to go," they asked Elia.

"I don't see why not," Elia replied. "I will have to thank Lord Walter, his one event will get you all married or betrothed, and out of my hair." The girls looked around nervously. Ashara laughed her musical laughter.

They had finished their breakfast when Elia heard footsteps behind her. She turned to find the seasoned face of Ser Barristan Selmy.

"Ser Barristan," Lady Ashara greeted before anyone else. "How are you this morning?"

The knight smiled a thin yet genuine smile. "I am fine, Lady Ashara." His face turned to Elia. "Pardon Princess, for interrupting your breakfast, but we can't seem to find Prince Rhaegar anywhere. Perhaps you know where he is."

"I don't," Elia answered. "Isn't the breakfast for the Lords served in the Small Council chambers?"

"He was there at breakfast," he spoke in a measured tone, "but he left soon after, and the King started asking for him out of nowhere. Perhaps his new spymaster whispered something in his ear, about the Prince, after which he became impatient." The knight grimaced, and Elia shared his emotion. Varys the Eunuch had that vibe around him, which the honest men and women seldom liked. The word 'impatient' was obviously a euphemism. "The Kingsguard have been asked to look for him in the castle. We looked for him everywhere, even here in Maegor's Holdfast, except for.."

"Our bedchamber," Elia completed his statement. Knights of the Kingsguard refrained from going there unescorted. "I will go check on him for you. Alyssa," she called the young Lady Ryker, "keep an eye on Rhaenys for me." The girl agreed whole-heartedly, delighted on being recognised. Elia started walking away.

"I can come with you Princess," said the knight, apologetic about making Elia get up from her cozy seat. "It is no trouble. Ser Jonothor Darry is guarding the moat."

"Oh no I insist," Elia said. "Let me go see. Lady Ashara will keep you company."

"Why of course I will," Ashara got up from her chair with a bright look.

Elia smiled as she walked away from the table. It was endearing to see those two with each other. They both could never be together, with Ser Barristan being a knight of the Kingsguard. But I am sure they both understand that. Vows can't be broken for the whims of the heart.

Elia and Rhaegar's bedchamber was on the top floor top of a two storeyed tower, on the eastern side of Maegor's Holdfast. On the first floor there were the servant's quarters and the nursery. To get to the floors one had to climb a winding staircase which opened at sides on the two floors. Elia lifted her skirts as she started climbing the stairs. She heard voices from the first floor. The servants were still in their chamber apparently.

But as she climbed more stairs she realized that the voices were coming out of the nursery. There were two persons, speaking to each other, and one of them was Rhaegar. What in the name of Seven? She moved closer, to get a better listen.

"I still don't feel sure. Are you certain no one can hear us here," said the unknown voice, a deep male voice flavored with Eastern accent.

"Yes," said Rhaegar. "No one spies on babies. Tell me what else you want to say.."

There was a pause in which Elia heard pacing. "The company is getting impatient," said the foreign voice.

"You all can be as impatient as you want. I don't care," Rhaegar replied in the iron tone he was known for. "We have only had one and a half months of spring, and you are already losing it. Is your company a bunch of willful children? Is your Lady going soft?"

"There is nothing wrong with Lady Rhaenyra," the other man said with newfound anger. "She is well, and strong, but we are not so sure about you. We want to know what you are doing my Prince," the man asked, his voice turning disfainful with each word. Elia moved closer on the winding stairs. "A tourney? A bloody tourney? A game where a bunch of boys swat each other with sticks."

"That game will bring in all the lords of Westeros," said Rhaegar. "That is a good start."

"If you are planning to poison them that is," the man rasped. "But I know you are too soft for that. The Lords are not to be trusted. Don't you know anything? They are leaches, you hear me, leaches. And if you think you can get them on your side, then you are as big a fool as.."

The man was interrupted by a savage blow from Rhaegar. Elia's eyes widened in shock when she heard the impact and she almost burst into the room. The foreigner grunted and stumbled backwards. "Talk to me that way again, go on," Rhaegar hissed in a voice that made her blanch even more. For a moment she couldn't recognize her own husband. He had lost all of its characteristic warmth, and sounded more like a totally different man, a very hard man. "This is my roof, and you will show me respect."

The man spat out blood. "Why yes Prince Rhaegar," he said. "But know this, I will not let you forget this insult."

"Good. I want that you don't forget this," Rhaegar pushed with gritted teeth. "Lemmings like you should know their place. Anything else, or do you want to scurry back to your burrow?"

"What am I to tell them," he asked. "My lady wants to know in full. What are your plans?"

"Tell Rhaenyra," Rhaegar said, "that I share the same goals as she does, as you and all the rest of her followers do. But we can't go too much against the order in place. Destruction of lordly powers would mean chaos; and too much chaos brings death. Death is already in store for us when the Long Night comes. Until we get the Prince who was Promised, and our course becomes clearer, we can't make a move."

"And how are we supposed to get the Prince who was Promised," the man asked. "Your Dornish wife almost died when she whelped your daughter. Can she survive another childbirth?" Elia's eyes widened.

Another savage blow, and this time she heard the man fall backwards and land on the crib. "Know...your...place," Rhaegar growled with the anger of a dragon. "One more word about my family, and I'll have you thrown into the sea. Get out of my sight!"

Before Elia could move the man walked out of the room, a grizzled man dressed like a common servant sworn to House Targaryen, with a painfully swollen jaw. He paused to give her a look, and walked downstairs, doning a scarf to hide his jaw.

Rhaegar was storming out angrily, but finding Elia outside the door made him stop. Her angry eyes burned into him as he stood there, stunned and grounded to the spot.

"The King is looking for you," Elia said, and descended the winding stairs.