A/N: Hi all, chapter as promised!
Someone made a comment about the ages of the characters and I think I should address this. Yes, I aged up many characters (Dacey... at this point she can be considered an OC House Mormont character). I have my reasons, namely that I dislike how Martin made so many of the characters end up getting involved in major things such as marriage, rule, and lordship at such a young age. Dany was too young to marry at age 13, same for Jon to go to the Wall. I prefer the show of making them 16, and this is what I chose to do with this story. If anyone doesn't like it, then fine, but it's what I'm comfortable writing.
Enjoy and please comment :D
Chapter 21: If the Walls had Ears
"You're quiet, wife," Aerys broke the silence, watching her from the looking glass.
Rhaella blinked. "There's… not much to say, your Grace. Not with preparing for the wedding." Danger. Apprehension. Rhaella felt both when her husband showed up - for years, he never graced her bed, her chambers. Preferring to sleep alone in a private solar closer to the Iron Throne.
The King was still sharp and observant when he wanted to be. "You disapprove of what I said about the Starks, don't you?" Jaime tensed from where he stood, gingerly stepping ever closer to Rhaella.
A sigh… there was no escaping this. "While… your words were… truthful." Her lies were seamless, knowing to give him the least amount of rope. "I think our son's betrothal feast wasn't the right time?"
"Wasn't the right time?" The King turned, eyes almost glowing a bright purple. "And when do you think the right time would be, wife? When the Starks have joined with Tywin to surround me?" A deep breath, throat scratchy. "No… they must be nipped in the bud now."
"If you say so, your Grace. I trust your judgement." Rhaella hoped this would be the end of it.
But sadly, she didn't usually get what she wanted. "Lyanna… a little bitch, isn't she?" The Queen said nothing, knowing Lyanna's only crime was loving Rhaegar. "Just like the Dornish whore… I don't trust them." He walked to the window. "Our children, Rhaella, gods - they are strong. Strong with the blood of the dragon."
A sense of loss filled Rhaella at the many babes she lost. "Aye, they were perfect."
"It was Jenny that took them away." He kicked at the wall. "Jenny and Dunk, they killed my perfect babies and poisoned Rhaegar. Turned him into my worthless father." Aerys turned, looking intensely at Rhaella. "Well I won't let that happen, wife. Not with Viserys and not with our new babe."
Stomach dropping into a painful pit, Rhaella felt as if she had been hit. "What?"
"Yes, a girl! It is preordained!" Without warning, he picked her up, pulling her close against him. "A proper dragon bride for Viserys, uncorrupted by Jenny."
Suddenly, he moved to kiss her in full view of his Kingsguard seemed to notice how she involuntarily flinched. Just a slight movement, but the damage was done. Rhaella screamed as Aerys shoved her, knocking her into a table covered in jewelry and sharp silver trinkets.
"You won't deny me, wife!" he snarled. "You will do your duty! And this time you won't destroy Viserys and our daughter as you did with Rhaegar! I won't let you!"
Pain in her arm and food, Rhaella could only nod. Completely stunned at the turn of events.
Staring down at his wife, Aerys' faraway blinked. "Seven hells, I need to think." He needed to be with his eggs. "Clean her up," he barked at Jaime, leaving without another word.
With the slam of the door, Jaime darted to his Queen. "Are you alright, your Grace?"
He easily hefted her back to her feet - delicate frame on his.
Rhaella nodded, eyes filling with tears. "I'm alright," she murmured. "Thank you, Ser Jaime. I just need..." Feeling something dripping down her arm, Rhaella looked and found a long but shallow cut in her arm. "Oh fuck, the last thing I need…" With that, nothing can stop her sobs. Used to her brother's treatment, somehow this was too much to bear.
Jaime had always been the more gentle of the Lannister twins, but rage burned inside him. A powerful protective instinct for the woman he loved. "Let's clean this up," he ground out, trying to keep strong for her. Nodding, one badly-placed step upon the floor caused Rhaella's ankle to twist. With a yelp, she almost tumbled to the ground… only for a pair of strong arms to hef her back up. "Try not to make me do this thrice, my Queen."
She smiled half-heartedly, eyes sparkling from the tears. "I'll try not to…" Testing the waters, Rhaella placed her foot back on the ground… only to wince. Rhaella was a Targaryen Queen. She'd bear it. "Just don't go too far away."
"Fuck this," Jaime finally said, taking matters into his own hands. With a yelp from her, the Lion of Lannister lifted her bridal style. Intent on carrying her to the bed as painlessly as possible.
Forced to wrap her arms around his neck to steady herself, Rhaella opened her mouth to scold him for the breach of protocol… But her objection died on her lips. Jaime was carrying her slight form as if lifting a feather. Her tongue grew dry at the feat of strength, unable not to sigh at the inhale of his masculine scent.
As soon as it began, it was over. Jaime depositing her on the bed and moving to grab a wet cloth. Rhaella shivering in spite of herself, missing his arms handling her so effortlessly. Her tears were forgotten, head spinning with thoughts alien to her.
Returning, Jaime placed the cloth on the wound. Rhaella hissed in discomfort, but a soft stroking of her arm calmed her. It took the knight everything in him not to give in and kiss her there. Inability to truly take her pain away only fueling his own anger. "You shouldn't have to take this… from him."
Turning her head to glare at him, there was no anger in Rhaella's eyes. Just worry. He couldn't help but hold out a forlorn hope. "Don't speak, Ser Jaime."
"You deserve better than a husband who hurts you." Apparently, excoriating the Starks in front of the entire Realm wasn't enough to satiate his rage against Brandon Stark for his comment. It was a common sight, Aerys triggered by something and then expanding his rage to any slight or whatever problem his mind could dredge up. The Queen that Jaime loved was the easiest target. "A husband that doesn't deserve to live."
"When that husband is the King," she replied, praying he would simply let it go. "Kingsguards shouldn't speak ill of the King they serve." Ser Jaime was the only light of her life not of her blood. So much like Joanna that it often shocked her - having him was like having a piece of her long-dead childhood friend and companion.
His unrequited feelings drove him far beyond what his oaths as a Kingsguard determined was proper. What was smart. "It would be easy." Cersei often said he spoke or acted before he thought. This was one of those times. "My sword, his back… your pain would be over."
Violet eyes widening, Rhaella grew red. "Never speak of such things!" Barking with anger, but derived from fear. Rhaella couldn't bear seeing him beheaded… or burned alive. "You are out of line, Ser Jaime, and have been out of line the entire night." She saw him grimace but Rhaella didn't stop. "He is your King. If you cross the line again, you shall be dismissed from my service. Are we clear?"
Hanging his head, Jaime only nodded. "Forgive me, my Queen. I did not know what I was saying." He did feel foolish, but there was the extra pain of truly hurting his Queen. Rising, unable to look at her without shame. "I'll fetch Pycelle for you."
Rhaella felt cold when Jaime left the bed. No, don't go… Almost reaching out and begging for him to stay - but her words actually hurting him, it broke her resolve. More painful to her than even Aerys' words.
Approaching the door, Jaime took one last glance at the Queen, hearing her soft sobs return. Steeling himself in spite of it being a dagger to his heart, he managed to leave the chambers. Stranded in the corridor, suddenly the rage spewed forth. A hushed snarl as he slammed his fist into one of the columns, pain of cut knuckles and sprained bones radiating through his hand.
Now Pycelle would have two injuries to treat.
A fire roared in the hearth, filling the chamber with a toasty warmth. Princess Rhaenys nevertheless burrowed under the goose down. Shivering from the chilly winter's knight drifting from Blackwater Bay. "Muna, I's cold…"
Lyanna could only chuckle. "This is cold? You've never been north of Dragonstone, have you?" The girl shook her head, causing her to lean down and hug her close. "My my, what will happen when you see snow?"
That perked her right up. "Jump in snow!"
"Settle down, little dragon. You still need to sleep." She and Elia had arranged to switch parenting duties each day, trying to get both Rhaenys and Aegon used to Lyanna as a mother So far, it worked wonders… if the princess would go to sleep. "Oh, my sweet summer child. How about I tell you a story of snow… the greatest snow in the history of the North."
Curling into a smile, Rhaenys nodded. Wide violet eyes trained on her new mother.
She closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the words that Old Nan had told her in her childhood. "The snows were so intense that they fell a hundred feet deep."
"Wow." Lyanna doubted that Rhaenys truly knew what a hundred feet meant - a mountain of now taller than even the Wall.
She nodded, continuing - while cleaning up the dark, fearful elements of the tale. Old Nan liked to try and frighten them which in all fairness was what she, Ned, Bran, and Benjen would ask for. Rhaenys… at merely three namedays she wasn't ready for that. "The First Men called it the Long Night, when the sun hides for years and children are born and live their lives all in darkness. A night thousands of years ago that lasted a generation."
"Where was sun?" Rhaenys asked innocently.
"No sun, hidden by the snowclouds."
"Why? Sun awways rise."
"Because of the white walkers, little dragons. Big ice monsters, skinny as bones. They swept through cities and kingdoms, riding their dead horses, hunting with their packs of pale spiders big as hounds…"
She stopped as Rhaenys gasped, pulling the covers over her head. "No muna… kepa and Sewr Awtur save me frwam white walkers." Even with paring down Old Nan's details, Lyanna had scared the princess all the same.
Both adorable and heartbreaking, Lyanna pulled back the covers to pepper Rhaenys' face with kisses. "Don't be worried, little dragon. The white walkers are gone."
Violet eyes blinked hopefully. "Rweally?"
Lyanna nodded. "A great hero emerged. Forging a sword for a hundred days and a hundred nights a sword of burning flame called Lightbringer. With it, this hero took on the white walkers and destroyed them, bringing sun and summer to all of Westeros. All waiting for the dragons to journey from Valyria to become their kings and be all cute." Lyanna began tickling Rhaenys, making her giggle.
"Muna, stop… he he…" Falling back on the mattress with a wide smile before yawning. Arms stretching above her.
"Looks like it's time for bed sweetling." The she-wolf pulled up the covers to wrap around Rhaenys tightly, kissing her forehead. "Goodnight, little dragon."
As she made her way to the door, a soft whimper called her back. "Muna…"
She couldn't refuse the plea. "Yes, Rhae?" Sighing, Lyanna sat in the chair next to the tiny bed. "What is it?"
"Do you wuv me?"
Lyanna blinked, not a question she expected. "What do you mean, sweetling? Of course I love you." She did - she truly did, as much as a child of her own womb. Of this, Lyanna was certain.
But Rhaenys wasn't convinced. "Why?" Suddenly, a tear fell down the girl's cheek.
The sight made Lyanna's heart clench. "Rhae… why are you crying?" she asked, voice catching with fear and worry. "Please tell me." I can't see you like this…
What she ended up saying broke Lyanna's heart further. "I hear red man speak wif owld robe man." Red man and old robe man… Connington and Pycelle? "They say 'Muna Lwyanna no wuv Dorne. Muna Lwyanna get wid of me and Egg'" A soft sob left her. "I wuv you, muna, no get wid of me…"
At that moment, Elia arrived at the door. Wanting to kiss her beloved daughter good night after putting Egg to bed, only to hear her crying. Worried, she almost entered but was stilled by Lyanna's voice.
Now it was Lyanna who was crying. "Oh sweetling… my sweet little dragon…" She kissed Rhaenys' cheek, burying her face in the nest of black curls. The Princess smelled like Rhaegar only with a more gentle scent. "I will never do that to you. I love you with all my heart and soul, just like your father and brother."
"Pwomise?"
"I promise." Why do you love this girl? A nagging voice asked within her, negative and questioning. She is not yours… Lyanna wished to scoff at it, tell the voice to piss off, but… Why did she love Rhae and Egg? Why had they wormed their way into her heart so quickly? "You're just like kepa, you know that?"
Rhaenys smiled. "Kepa is the bwavest, stwongest man."
"That he is," Lyanna swooned. "I love him so much, little dragon." Yes, Rhaenys and Egg were the children of the man she loved, but instinct told Lyanna that they were as much her destiny as the children of her womb - of Visenya, Jaehaerys, Lyarra, and the son as yet to be named. Old Nan and her mother had often said the Starks were a line seeped in the magic of the old gods, so perhaps it was that. "You are practically my daughter, and when he and I are wed you will be in the sight of gods and men."
"I wuv you, muna."
Ears pressed against the door, Elia pulled back. Chest feeling tight. Part of her glad that Lyanna was taken with Rhaenys so selflessly, but there was still that tiny worry. A pain at seeing another woman earn the sort of unconditional love from her precious child. The woman my husband loves too, without the baggage we have…
Mind and heart a swirling cauldron of emotions, worries, and rationalizations that she was overthinking everything, Elia walked back to her shared chambers with Rhaegar. Needing his arms around her. Not hearing the next part of the conversation…
Hugging, Rhaenys nuzzling into Lyanna's neck, all was how it should be. "Don't you worry, my little dragon. Kepa and both your munas love you very much."
"Mmmm…" Something came to mind. "Do me wuving you make me wuv muna no more?"
Brows furrowing, Lyanna pulled back. "No."
"Red man say that. That you twy to take me fow youself… I wuv muna too." Whereas there was sadness before, now there was conflict in the poor girl. A deep confusion as to her circumstances. Had she hidden this for so long?
A burning anger for Jon Connington formed in Lyanna's veins, but that was for another time. "Listen to me, Rhae. Dragons answer to neither gods nor men. Others are normal, but you are extraordinary."
"Extwaowdinawy…" Rhaenys tried but failed to pronounce the word. Gods, I could eat her up!
"Elia is your muna, and she loves you so much. I would end myself before I take you away from her." Her family's sayings kept coming back. "My own muna once said 'The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.' We are part of a pack, and nothing will rip us apart if I have anything to say about it."
One last smile on her lips, Rhaenys drifted off to sleep. Face free of worry for the first time in days.
Lyanna softly kissed her cheek. "Goodnight, my sweet babe. Your pack loves you so." Quietly she made her exit, unaware that Elia had ever been there.
"If there are gods, they truly hate me right now." One moment, Cersei was in her chambers, a glass of wine in her hand and mulling just how irritated and horny she was, and the next brought the most annoying person she knew to disturb such peace… or rather restless silence.
"You don't have to get testy with me, sister," Trion drolled, leaning against the armrest of his chair. "I'm happy for you. Ned Stark is quite the catch if you think about it." He belched, causing Cersei to roll her eyes.
"I thought you were sober?"
He offered a tiny smile of apology. "Mostly sober. Had to have a little liquid courage to get up the gumption to run the gauntlet by seeing you. Personally, I'd much rather make the eight…" Tyrion wiggled his eyebrows.
Groaning, Cersei wondered if she could smother him with a pillow before anyone noticed. Eh, too impracticable. "You're a pig." Why the fuck do we have to be related?
Giggling again, Tyrion looked somberly at his only sister. Certainly better company than Aunt Genna's half-Frey brats with Jaime too busy. At least Cersei had some restraint about her. "At least thank the gods it was myself that found you close to losing your maidenhead and not father… he doesn't need the added difficulty that murdering the brother of the future Queen would give him..."
Sigh leaving her lips, Cersei just wanted this torture to end. "Tyrion, I'm tired and I have a headache…"
"All things that Ned Stark is likely glad you didn't have while he was devouring you." Catching her murderous glare return, Tyrion put his hands up. "Alright, that's my last one.' While normally a debased disgrace to the Lannister name, when he did grow serious Tyrion looked exactly like their father - and with the brains to back it up. "This isn't some infatuation. You really fancy Eddard Stark?"
Sighing, Cersei let her head fall back. "I can't believe I'm talking to you about this." Frankly, since Melara had nothing else to add and their pasts made talking to him… awkward, it was either Tyrion or Gerion. With Gerion away at the moment… "Yes, I fancy him."
Nodding, Tyrion leaned forward. "And why is that? To be honest, he doesn't seem like your type." All dour and brooding, Ned Stark would be quite dashing but wasn't the type to ever flaunt it. Definitely not the kind of man Cersei tended to favor. Quite the conundrum.
"I don't know." It frustrated her sometimes. "With the collapse of my almost betrothal to the Prince… Something just attracted me to the Stark. It baffles me." Much as she despised Tyrion, it did feel good to disclose this. The weight on her chest wasn't as heavy. "Ironic, my first words to him was 'Stuff your apology, northern fool!'"
"That's practically foreplay for you, sister." He grinned, leaning back against the chair like an arrogant lord holding court. But he grew serious. "Do you think it's about…"
Blindsided there, Cersei glared at her brother. "Do not go there, Tyrion."
But Tyrion was determined to explore this - for both his curiosity and whatever clarity Cersei could obtain. "Your outlook, I mean when you left for the tourney you still desired to be Rhaegar's wife, but your entitlement to it was nothing like before father made you drink the tea."
"I told you not to go there!" Her eyes shut tight - Cersei had finally put the pain of that moment to bed, only for her hated brother to bring it up again. "Don't, don't, don't…" She withdrew, almost tearing up.
Tyrion may have been an ass sometimes, but unlike what many - sometimes including Cersei - said, he was no monster. "Alright, sister. I won't refer to it again." There was a silence, allowing her some breathing space to resume her composure. "Personally, I think you should let that Stark boy have his way with you. You'll be far less wound..."
Now the proper Cersei Lannister returned from the show of vulnerability. "When you were a babe, I almost smothered you with a pillow. Wanna see if I can do so now..."
"Alright, Cersei. I know when I've overstayed my welcome." He pushed himself off the chair, hobbling out on his stunted legs. "One last thing. Don't let father's ambitions dissuade you from having your direwolf… he's probably gonna end up on the small council one day. Follow your heart and count yourself as lucky as Lady Lyanna."
Watching Tyrion leave, Cersei rose and walked to her bed. Falling upon it - staring at the ceiling. Gods… Tyrion, little monster that he was, ended up having a point. Perhaps that even as she pined for Rhaegar, little affair with Jaime notwithstanding, there had been a change about her after… Even in her own thoughts, Cersei couldn't bear to think about it. Ned Stark is no dashing prince or handsome knight.
He is handsome… and a fighter. No one that fought Ser Arthur Dayne and won could be thought of as anything different. A good man.
But he is a northern barbarian, a second son of a backwater Lord…
A man who set my loins on fire… Groaning loud, she buried her head in her pillow. Hoping that her sleep wouldn't be disturbed too much by the burning between her legs.
Bouncing the cute little bundle clutched tightly to her bosom, Elia cooed gently. "Sleep little one. Muna's got you close… that's it." Violet eyes that were just like his father looking up at her, Prince Aegon yawned, arms stretching above his head before he fell asleep in her arms. "Rest up, little dragon."
"By the gods, motherhood agrees with you." Walking beside her in the gardens, listening to the hummingbirds buzz around the various winter blooming flowers planted by the groundskeepers, Oberyn watched his sister with a pure smile. He always did love his family as he did life. "Last time I saw you, you were pregnant with the tiny Princess."
Elia chuckled, being with child the first time she felt truly content with her lot in life. The first time Rhaegar and she managed to truly connect, however strained. "You have more experience than than me with childrearing… the bearing, not so much."
Oberyn shrugged. "I saw Nymeria's mother give birth. Believe me, I'm glad I was born with a cock." He smirked as Elia rolled his eyes. "Stop being so prudish, dear sister. It's how our parents made us."
"You sound just like Ellaria… and that isn't a complement by the way." Still bouncing Aegon, Elia looked at a newly planted shrub of winter roses. They are beautiful… She'd come to recently appreciate the wild beauty of the north.
Normally observant, his wistful remembrance of the night he had arrived - nude body tangled with an equally nude goddess in her bed - took his concentration. "Ah, yes. I hope the Princess of the Seven Kingdoms isn't angry that I… sampled her beautiful Lady in Waiting."
She narrowed her eyes. "I hope that you weren't referring to Dacey Mormont." All she got was a quirk of Oberyn's head. The woman that sampled half the Red Keep, sleeping with ten Northern guards and maids since Lyanna arrived in King's Landing… of course she falls for my brother. "I bet she took you to Chataya's."
He shook his head. "No, no brothel. Dear Ellaria Sand was worth ten whores, the way she could do this one thing with her tongue…"
"Alright, that's enough of an image." Elia didn't want to throw up while she held Aegon. "But only one woman for you? I'm surprised, brother." Oberyn grinned in response. "So I take it I'll have to find a new Lady in Waiting."
There was a slight silence. "About that… you need not worry once I leave."
It took a moment, but Elia did a double take. "You little bastard." She was simultaneously in jest and deathly serions. "You defiled my Lady in Waiting and are parting with her without another word?" Shaking her head, at that moment Elia sounded like their deceased mother. Quite scolding. "Why must you do that, Oberyn? She has an attraction to you."
"It was her idea, dear sister. And the beautiful Ellaria is just like me, a free spirit."
The Princess glared crossly, huffing. "I think obliviousness runs in our family if you are that boneheaded."
Smirking softly, Oberyn pointed out to Blackwater Bay. "See there, a thousand lands to explore. I am second in line to Doran, and he already has three children healthy as horses. I'm not required to inherit anything, so why not spread my wings."
"Because you have an actual connection with Ellaria?"
He shrugged again, spreading his arms. "I can't discount that. If we are meant to be, then she shall grace my life again." Oberyn leaned down to smell one of the flowers. "Let's leave it in the gods' hands."
"I think you're making a mistake, brother."
"Many women in my life, dear sister. Two daughters… at least that I know of." Another chuckle, another eye roll. "If there's anyone that knows the vagaries of love, it's me. Now your goodbrother, he's hopeless."
Elia furrowed her brows. Couldn't be Viserys… "Brandon?" No, he's a ladies man… "Ned Stark you mean?"
A nod. "Aye, spoke to him at your betrothal feast. Quite a brooder he is - worse than Rhaegar if you can believe it."
"You spoke to Ned Stark?" Oh, now this I have to hear. They took a turn out of the gardens, wandering close to one of the open yards of the keep. Members of the household guard trained in the distance, supervised by the up and coming knight Alliser Thorne - loyalty to House Targaryen bordering on zealotry. Though she was still miffed about him and Ellaria, Elia had learned in her time as Princess not to hold a grudge for very long. "What did you discuss?" she asked, easing Egg in her arms as he slept.
"Oh, just his pining after Cersei Lannister."
If she wasn't holding Aegon, Elia would have probably fell over in shock. "Eddard fancies Cersei Lannister?" Gods, that is something no one would have ever expected. "I greatly pity him."
"I don't. If he is able to nab the Light of the West, she'll fuck his brains out. A seasoned lover can always tell that type of woman. Cersei is that way… and so is your sister's wife." Oberyn wriggled his brows.
Biting her lip, Elia blushed. "I wouldn't know anything about…"
"Obara!" he barked at a child around eight namedays. "Keep your arms up. You're sparring, not dancing." Matched against a Martell guard, the girl did as she was told - improving greatly. Lyanna would like Dornish custom, I believe.
Lyanna...
She looked up to find Oberyn staring at her. "What troubles you, sister?"
"Oh… nothing."
"Don't give me that. Our brother might be fooled, or too oblivious, but you never got to pawn me off so easily." He crossed his arms. "Why are you so pensive lately?"
Secretly craving a sympathetic ear, Elia spilled everything. From what she observed the night before outside Rhaenys' chambers, to Lyanna's monopolization of Rhaegar's adoring gazes, to the slow reconnecting she found herself having with her husband. Speaking of things she was ashamed to say or think… Oberyn wouldn't judge her, so it just came out.
Oberyn merely listened. "Alright," he finally spoke. "Turns out I was right all along about you and Rhaegar loving each other. I saw it when Rhaenys was in your womb and it just took a little push to get your heads out of your asses."
"Enough, Oberyn. I'm being serious right now." Easing Egg in her lap, she ran her fingers through her raven locks. "My mind is spinning and I have no way of calming it."
"Alright. Firstly, you have nothing to worry about."
She blinked. "And why is that?"
"If Lyanna were to try and usurp you, she would have made moves already." That had been proven the moment Lyanna held a knife to his throat to defend Rhaegar. Oberyn could see it in her eyes. "My worries…" A sigh. "You are my first priority, Elle." A name only Oberyn ever had for her. "If Lyanna was usurping you… if the Starks are usurping you, which is still something I can't dismiss at this point in time." Eddard… he was harmless. The man seemed more preoccupied with his own love life than anything political, placing him as a guileless novice at the game. Brandon seemed like an oblivious fun-lover, while Rickard was hard to read. Still have some work to go. "Our brother on the other hand, he ranted to me for a whole day about the need to keep Aegon's birthright."
Elia groaned. "He's always been more obsessed about the family legacy than his actual family." Her confusion about her role as her heart pushed her to Rhaegar but Doran's orders pushed her towards being a spy for Sunspear had clouded her early years. Preventing a true bond with her husband before Aerys began abusing her. She wouldn't forget it.
"Look, I wouldn't worry about Lyanna… while Doran would be stubborn about this, I see her love for your children as genuine. There's no faking that kind of adoration, and I honestly think you didn't hear their entire conversation. You may well be taking it out of context."
Elia had to admit he had a point. "Brother, I'm glad Lyanna cares for Egg and Rhae. I'm glad she cares for Rhaegar… I've had more affection from him now than at any time in our marriage, but would he have ever done so if not for Lyanna?" Her greatest source of dejection at the moment, that Rhaegar's love was just guilt.
"Why are you overthinking it, just enjoy having an actual husband." Of course it wasn't as cut and dry. "Dragons are not deceptive by nature, sister. Not when it comes to family." He smirked slyly. "Do you want to know why it is that you are so emotionally frazzled."
Egg whimpered, so Elia was distracted by him - missing the smirk. "What?"
"I think that you want to make love to both Rhaegar and Lyanna." That caught her attention, jaw dropping. "What? Every girl that tried it in my presence enjoyed herself."
That merely earned him a smack on the shoulder.
A/N: Aerys is spiraling further out of control, but even here poor Jaime can't properly console the woman he loves :(
Rhaenys is adorable and Lyanna discovers some important context about herself and her feelings... but Elia may have heard her out of context. Good thing she has Oberyn... but will he be enough?
Writing Cersei in this story is just so much fun.
Next up, Lyanna and Elia take a trip to the city with a certain someone.
