Within a few moments of waking up, Elia could feel the edges of the day fraying already. In fact, she had the distinct feeling today she would feel like one of those jugglers at a tourney - the ones who toss oranges and apples in the air quickly, trying not to drop them.

Gods, how quickly will this day fall from my hands?

Today they would inter the ashes of Aerys in the Great Sept of Baelor. After helping her dress in a black gown, her maid did her hair in an elegant single braid, a few strands framing her bronze face delicately, and Elia clasped small ruby earrings on. As she exited her chambers to begin the day, she greeted her Kingsguard on duty.

"Good morning, Ser Jaime," she told the young lion.

"A good 'mourning,' indeed, my Queen," he said with a small smile.

Even if the day would be unruly, a jape like that was needed. "You are quite daring, good ser," she told him with a raised eyebrow.

"You don't mind though, do you?" he asked cautiously but she could tell he already knew the answer.

Elia shook her head at him but her eyes were warm and bright. "I think you already know the answer to that."

Ser Arthur and Ser Oswell had disappeared with Rhaegar on his 'sojourn' with Lyanna Stark. And while they would rotate now and then, Ser Jaime usually stayed with Elia, Lord Commander Hightower and Ser Llewyn with Aegon and Rhaenys, and Ser Barristan and Jonothor with Rhaella and Viserys now that they were all in the capital together.

As Elia and Jaime walked through the Red Keep, she could tell the young knight wanted to ask her something. He kept opening his mouth to speak and then closing it. And so she paused their passage.

"What is it?" she asked quietly, placing a hand on his metal-covered arm.

He was always so sarcastic or irreverent with her. The friendship between their mothers had passed down to the two of them as well, and she was glad for it. But she was not used to seeing him so quiet, almost...vulnerable.

"Is it wrong that I feel so relieved he is gone? That I feel no...remorse?" he asked in a whisper.

Her face shifted into understanding then. "Oh, Jaime," Elia breathed quietly. "No, it is not wrong. I suspect everyone in this city feels the same."

The young knight looked at her for a moment, as though to make sure she was not jesting with him. Seeing she was true, his expression eased.

"Shall we?" he asked, extending one arm to her.

She took his offering with both a smile and a tired groan. "If we must."

And so the day began at the Great Sept where they interred the late King's ashes. Given the state his body had been in following the...incident, waiting to burn his body until Rhaegar's return had simply not been an option. The children had not attended the pyre burning in the dragon pit, but both Elia and Rhaella had decided that while Aegon would remain in the nursery guarded by his great-uncle and Ser Barristan, Rhaenys and Viserys would attend this final ceremony. Once it was finished, the family ascended from the tombs into the main area of the sept with the High Septon.

The sun was particularly bright that day, its rays piercing through the colored glass and hitting the crystal crown of the High Septon. It managed to create a series of small dancing rainbows on the marbled floor as he walked with the royal family and as soon as Rhaenys noticed, she squirmed down from her grandmother's arms to chase what looked like magic to the toddler. It was only a few moments before Viserys joined her, the two laughing as the High Septon seemed to move to encourage the game.

"You are kind to indulge them," Elia told him warmly.

"Well, it is nice to see the glow of young life here," the thin man replied. "They were very attentive during the ceremony, it is the least I can do." The streams of colors continued, the children trying to catch them in their hands, as the trio of adults walked slowly through the sept. "Will your normal visits to the orphanages take place this week, Your Grace? It has greatly lifted the spirits of the children since you began them upon your return from Dragonstone," he asked Elia.

She did not know the High Septon well, a thin man with a brown beard that was sprinkled with greys. But since she had come back to the capital, she had made a point of visiting the Sept often and establishing a constant schedule with the orphanages. That had at least formed a bit of a bond she hoped would provide a solid foundation for a new reign. Though...the Highest ones are often the least holy, she thought. But this one seemed to be true.

At least, near as 'true' ever is.

"Yes, I shall be visiting. Now more than ever, it seems important to give some...consistency," Elia replied. "I believe you were going to attend as well, is it not so, good-mother?"

"That's correct. It has been...difficult as of late to be able to find time to leave the Keep, but not anymore." The High Septon was no fool. It was clear what the change was.

"And…" He paused their walking then as his tone turned serious. "When might we expect...the new King?"

When will he return after kidnapping or running off with a young girl, you mean to ask, Elia thought. Perhaps we should pray on it.

"Within days, I am sure," Rhaella replied confidently and with a smile. Elia plastered one on her face as well, though she knew they both truly did not have any honest answer to give the man. We both are good mummers.

"Splendid," he answered, though was not entirely sure he was convinced. "Please let me know when we might expect to conduct the coronation."

Affirming he would know as soon as possible, they bid him goodbye before Rhaella beckoned to the youths to leave, and Rhaenys ran into her grandmother's arms excitedly. "Did you like the rainbows, my sun dragon?" she asked the toddler as she picked her up, tucking a curl of hair behind her ear. Rhaenys nodded excitedly as she hugged her.

Elia extended her hand to Viserys with a smile, the young boy taking it quickly.

"We match, Aunt Elia," he said studiously but with a small smile. "You and me, mother and Rhae."

Her heart swelled at his sweet observation. Rhaella had been sparse in what she told her youngest child - simply saying the King had gone away to a better place. To their relief, he seemed to take the development well, though clinging to his mother and aunt more.

"Are you sure you don't mind carrying her?" Elia asked her good-mother as they began to walk outside.

Rhaella smiled, running a hand through Rhaenys's hair. "On the contrary," she replied, exhaling with content. "It gives me much pleasure, Elia. She does." Seeing some lightness and energy return to the dowager Queen, a return long overdue, was another balm to her. When Aerys was alive, Rhaella was nearly restricted from spending time with Rhaenys. But now she could indulge to her heart's content.

Beyond that, both of Elia's parents had passed, and somehow seeing Rhaenys bond with a grandparent worthy of the love gave her strength.

Three of the Kingsgaurd and a large host of gold cloaks accompanied them as they made their way down the steps, the black dresses of both women trailing behind them, and a large crowd having assembled and cheering for the royal family.

"I am to meet with Brandon Stark today, he is nearly healed," Elia said to Rhaella, leaning over so she could be heard over the noise of the crowd but waving with her free hand all the while. "I am going to return…" she took a moment before she continued. "I am going to give him his father's remains."

"Oh, Elia," Rhaella lamented. "Would you like me to be there?"

"I think I shall be fine alone. I am more concerned about the other pending arrivals," she said as quietly as she could while still being heard.

As they got to the carriage, Rhaella paused before entering. "Well, one part of the past has been laid to rest. Let us see what we can do about the future."


"I should not have come here."

Elia looked at Brandon Stark with trepidation, wondering if she had somehow misstepped.

"If I had not come to this pit of a city," he continued, his voice low, "perhaps my father might still be alive."

Absorbing the utter pain that was apparent on his face, no matter how much he tried to conceal it, her thoughts began to run.

"My brother would have done the same," she told him quietly, in an attempt at consolation. "Or he would have tried at least, I have no doubt. Love for family often consumes any rational bone we possess."

Brandon looked at her, his eyes grateful and large with emotion, though his face remained tight. Then he turned his gaze back to the chest that contained his father's remains. He was glad in grey and black, normal for his house, but it seemed to fit the occasion as well.

"So many people stood by and did nothing. How do we give one man so much power?" the young lord seethed, his face a storm of fury and pure loss.

How, indeed. "Come, why don't we go to my solar, it's just next door," Elia beckoned softly. His eyes remained on the chest for a few moments before he nodded slightly, acquiescing.

When they entered the room, Elia brought him to a small table where a pitcher of wine sat. As he took a seat, he closed his eyes wearily while she poured him a glass.

"Here, I think you need that," she told him, pushing the goblet to him before pouring one for herself and taking a seat.

He paused before taking a long, deep sip. As he brought the goblet down, he wiped his lips and dark beard with the back of his hand. Then his eyebrows raised in acknowledgment. "It's good," he stated somberly.

"Dornish."

That earned her a small laugh which brought the slightest bit of lightness to his face.

"Your brother will be here soon," Elia informed him after a few moments of silence. "I believe he is accompanied by Lord Baratheon and Lord Arryn." She took a slow sip as she observed him.

Brandon let out a small groan. "He did not need to come, it would have been better for him to go to Winterfell. Ben is all alone, barely more than a bairn, he is." His last words came out laced with a hint of worry.

Elia observed him for a moment before looking out the window. She wondered how close or far their newest guests were to arriving. "It seems they had already started making their way south after receiving the summons from Aerys for your...'trial.' But I do believe he received your raven - at Riverrun, in fact. I imagine your brother wants to set eyes on you. And Lord Baratheon..."

"Robert, gods," he said with a deep exhale. "I wrote to Ned that Lyanna was...safe. Neither need come here, nor Lord Arryn. Elbert is perfectly well. Though I suppose Lord Arryn may be the only one who can control Robert," he muttered. Then he looked to Elia, watching her for a moment. "There's still been no word from them, is there?"

"No, we tasked...someone...with locating them and relaying the events here," she replied evenly, pushing some stray dark brown strands of hair away from her face.

"Once we have Lyanna back, we will leave," he declared quietly but with a sharp edge all the same. Elia wondered if he even questioned if his sister would want to leave, but she did not voice that thought. "Elbert and the others will be glad to leave, as well," he continued.

She nodded in acknowledgment, taking another sip of wine. Somehow there was an odd space of familiarity with him and she didn't know why. It was puzzling, unnerving and hopeful all at once

"So, Brandon," she asked, calling him by his name as he had requested before. "What comes next?"

"As I said, your husband returns my sister to me, for one."

"And then?"

"And then…" He sighed, looking up to the ceiling. "How do I get justice? It feels impossible with that mangy devil of a King dead now." He tilted his head back down and looked over to her. "What options am I left with?"

Elia looked to him and as she absorbed the expression directed at her, intense and purposeful eyes, she realized something - he was genuinely asking her, not just pondering into the air. All of a sudden she felt like she was in a small boat by herself in the middle of the ocean, unsure where to go. The truth was, she did not know. Nothing felt satisfactory or like it could be enough. Aerys is dead - what was recompense or justice now? It would almost be easier if he were alive.

"Well, as you said, to start with, Rhaegar and Lyanna return." She chose her phrasing carefully. Would the girl want to return? Another thought for another time. "And then you negotiate with him. Even if Aerys is dead, the North is owed for what happened to your father. That much is clear to all." She did not feel like she was being treasonous in offering him that counsel as it truly did seem obvious.

"Aye," he growled. "Your husband will pay, make no mistake." Elia could tell that as soon as he said it, even he was slightly taken aback. Has the wolf tamed himself a bit, she wondered? She also wondered if he meant for all Targaryens to pay, including her own children. We've become a sort of friends, he and I. I hope he thinks so too.

The northern lord regarded her for a few moments, almost as if he were studying her - or reading her thoughts. Then his posture seemed to relax as though he had settled on a course of action. "I don't know if I'll remain very calm in his presence. Perhaps you should be there to ensure it all goes smoothly," he stated, almost like a dare - or was it an assurance?

The uncrowned Queen laughed then, her own shoulders easing. It was a rare sensation, truth be told. "Oh? What would I add to that meeting?" She would be at that meeting, of course, but she was curious for his answer nonetheless.

Brandon looked at her, his eyes penetrating. "Perhaps I'll need a reminder of my debt owed," he stated with sincerity. That statement brought an immense relief to Elia, more than he probably could imagine.

Then the wild wolf's expression turned to one of curiosity. "And I suspect you have some ideas and suggestions, Your Grace. In fact, I suspect you're quite full of ideas, more than you let on."

Elia scoffed lightly at his remark and the mild cheek of it, one hand smoothing the skirt of her dress in her lap. It was her own way of exercising her nerves. "Is this what you do, Brandon? Try and charm women into agreeing with you?" she asked dryly.

"Try?" he asked in mock offense, his cool grey eyes appraising her. "Well, no one could ever accuse you of succumbing, could they, Elia?"

"I don't know, I suppose you'll have to see, won't you?" She replied, turning her eyes to her glass as she took another sip, though she could feel his gaze on her. She enjoyed their banter, though Elia didn't know if it was the wine or him addressing her so informally that made her answer as she did just then. No, definitely the wine. I've just had near a full glass of wine without eating today. Gods.

She placed the goblet on the table and took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. The breeze from the window washed over her along with moving rays of the sun.

"Black does not suit you," he said suddenly, breaking her thoughts, as he looked over her.

"Pardon?" she blurted, her shoulders tightening slightly. I mourn in black for someone whose death only brings me joy. "Why is that?" she asked.

"Darkness does not become you, Your Grace," he amended, his voice lower before he took a long sip of his wine. When he finished, he looked back to her. "It seems too harsh for you, I mean." The way he held her gaze suddenly made her feel like she was being taken apart - but in a good way.

And then it dawned on her.

"You're deflecting," Elia told him, her dark amber eyes meeting his grey ones firmly.

Now it was his turn to be caught off guard. "I'm what?"

"You're deflecting," she repeated steadily. "To avoid...how you feel."

Brandon looked away from her, staring at the goblet of wine and letting one finger trace the circular top around and around. "Is that so bad?" he asked with a rueful smile before he stood to fill his goblet once more.

If it wouldn't have been highly improper, she would have embraced him, comforted him. But instead she only spoke. "No," she answered gently, looking up at him, her eyes soft. "It is never bad to seek a reprieve from grief, Brandon."

And then the raven-haired man stared at her again, though this time his gaze was a storm of vulnerability, longing - and something more burning that she could not quite place.

Or that it was best not to.

By some miracle, they were interrupted with a knock at the door, and Elia could not have been more grateful.

She stood up swiftly. "Enter!" she called, her voice cracking as though she were a greenboy on the verge of manhood.

Ser Jaime entered and if he caught onto the odd feeling in the air, he did not let on. "Lords Stark, Baratheon and Arryn have arrived, my Queen."

"Ah, yes, thank you, Ser Jaime," she said in a rush. The Lannister knight eyed her curiously before exiting the room.

"We should go, should we not?" Elia said, turning to Brandon with a pleasant smile. And then a thought struck her before he could respond. "Would you prefer to greet your brother alone?" she asked him quietly. "You could meet here if you like as it is not far from...the other room."

Brandon stared at her for a moment before he spoke "If that were possible, I would be much obliged," he confirmed. "Once again, I suppose," he added at the end. The air had shifted between them somehow, and their eyes stayed on the other for a moment.

"Right. I shall leave you here, then," she told him as she regained her composure. But as she moved to leave, Brandon grabbed her hand suddenly, and Elia let out a slight gasp as her eyes flew down to his hand over hers.

"I never - " he stopped himself, pausing before he continued. "I never said thank you."

"It was just wine," Elia breathed, trying - and failing - to ignore the feel of his hand holding hers. She had kept her eyes fixed on their joined hands before letting them rise to meet his grey orbs. And then she felt her breath hitch slightly as she took in the raw intensity of his gaze.

"I never said thank you for saving me."

When she walked out of the room, Elia felt like the fruit had begun to fall from her hands.


She arrived at the chambers just as Rhaella did. They did not even exchange words but only a knowing glance and a nod before they entered together.

Inside the chambers were Jon Arryn and Robert Baratheon, the first seated and the second pacing - stomping, really - impatiently. As soon as they entered, Lord Arryn rose, bowing to both of them.

"My Queen - Queens," he amended awkwardly. Robert Baratheon stopped his pacing, fixing both women with a furious gaze. He did not even bother to bow at first and then Lord Arryn coughed. That led to a brusque false bow.

Elia looked to Rhaella, and so her good-mother spoke first. "My lords, it is warming to see you both in good health."

"Good health?" Baratheon yelled. "Where is my betrothed? Where has your son taken her?" His eyes fixed on Elia then. "Where is your husband, woman?"

"Robert!" Lord Arryn chastised though to no discernible impact.

Elia suppressed a groan. Would today only be filled with tall, dark-haired men trying to jostle her emotions, though each with opposite effect?

Before either she or Rhaella could answer, there was a knock on the door, and Elia exhaled slowly, already glad for the interruption.

Ser Jonothor entered, bowing to Rhaella and Elia. "Your…" his eyes dashed to Lord Baratheon before going back to the two women. "Your visitor is here, my Queen."

Elia watched as Rhaella's shoulders eased, and a confident smile played upon her lips. "Ah, what good tidings finally. Please show her in, Ser Jonothor."

"We're not finished here! Who have you invited here? We have not even begun to discuss the mess your silver-fucked son created!" Robert roared to Rhaella before turning to pace once more.

Footsteps padded upon the floor along with the click of a cane, and a disapproving sigh was heard at the door. The guest.

"Silver is not always so bad, Robert," the new arrival said coldly.

Robert whipped around at the voice, and Elia watched with fascination as his fury vanished, only to be replaced by shock and...fear?

"Grandmother?" he stuttered.


So I think I said before I don't do solo POVS, buuut starting with the last chapter I'm giving the solo POV a try. I'm not sure how I like it - as I said before, I like to bounce between people's thoughts. But I wanted to give it a shot for a bit. Let me know what you think of that - in addition to the content of the chapter!