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Disclaimer: I own nothing. All things recognizable are property of G.R.R. Martin, David Benioff, D.B. Weiss, & company, & the asoiaf wiki.

Warning: This chapter contains disturbing imagery and references to physical & psychological abuse, other incidences of violence, and rape, though none of those items mentioned occurs in the chapter.


Chapter 9

Rhaegar stirs as he feels the furs he was lying under shift. He almost drifts back into sleep when he feels shuffling beside him and then hears a whimper of distress. He blinks slowly. He looks towards the window and sees that it still is night. It is still very dark outside, but, the fire in the grate has not banked itself; its flames still merrily dancing along casting the room in shadows. He hears the sound of another whimper. This whimper, accompanied by an audible, yet, clearly distressed, "No", causes him to turn his head sharply to his other side.

Beside him, Elia is shaking; in the low light he sees a faint sheen of wetness on her brow; her face twisted into a grimace of fright. Her breaths come quick and shallow; she cries out, "Your Grace please, no." Confused and worried, Rhaegar tries to rouse her, by calling her name but, he is unable to do so. She cries again, louder, "Not them please…"

He is perplexed by what she is saying, but, he is far more alarmed by what he sees in front of him. He does not even try to decipher what those words could possibly mean. Rhaegar believes he hears faint shuffling outside the door, but, ignores it; most of his attention is focused on his wife. He touches her shoulder, hoping his touch will cause her to become awake. It fails to rouse her; however, she begins whimpering louder. He then tries to awaken her by shaking her lightly. Again, it fails, now she shakes even harder and in the light of the room he sees tears beginning to fall from her eyes. He tries shaking her again. This time her eyes fly open. Her face is twisted in fear; more tears start flowing. She screams and pushes his hand away from her shoulder. He can only watch as she continues to scramble away from him. He hears a door slam open, but, he is frozen sitting as he looks at his wife. Her face is a study in abject dread. He has never seen that expression on her face. Her eyes are unfocused, and wet with tears. She takes quick, but, deep breaths, as if she is drowning and she is shaking heavily.

Much to Rhaegar's shock and confusion, before he can say or do anything, Ser Jaime rushes in front of Elia and sits down in front of her. The knight speaks, "What happened; what did you see?"

Rhaegar hears her brokenly whisper, "He was where. He wanted the children..." The knight takes a breath before glancing behind for a moment before taking in his surroundings quickly returns his attention to Elia's face. He, barks at the knight who entered with him, "Ser, get the Maester; discreetly; no one else. Tell him it is dreams again." Many thoughts swim in Rhaegar's mind. What dreams? Since when does she have dreams? How long has she had dreams such as this? Why is he hearing of them now? Who was "he"? What children? Rhaegar wants to ask these questions, but, before he could the younger knight noticing the other man had not moved, yells, "Now, Ser!"

The ferocity of the words shocks Rhaegar. The sharpness of the knight's voice was incongruous with the gentleness by which one of the knight's hands reaches for Elia's shoulder, holding her in place. The other one grasps her chin so that she focuses only on the knight. Still, never having heard that tone of voice from his younger "brother" Ser Barristan rushes out to obey leaving the three of them alone in the room. But, none of that sates his curiosity as even more questions arise.

What did Ser Jaime know? Has he seen this happen before? What does the Maester know? How long had they known whatever it is that they do know? In a rush of anger another question comes to mind. Why had no one bothered to inform him?

Rhaegar can only watch, transfixed, as the knight croons words of comfort to his wife, "Sshh, now, you are safe. We are safe. He is gone. Breathe Your Grace." Rhaegar is even more unnerved, not knowing what to make of any of this.

Rhaegar can only stand, stiffly watching and thinking, as the other man's words seem to take some effect. Her body is still shaking, though now she shakes less. After a few moments her body begins to relax so that she sags slightly so that the bulk of her weight is pressed against the wall. Rhaegar watches as Ser Jaime brushes her hair back in a comforting gesture. Rhaegar can make out a troubled, but, soft look on the knights face, and an unsure one on his wife's. No one speaks.

Rhaegar moves to go near where they are, but, his footsteps are noisy in the silence and he sees Elia tenses again. He stops moving. He opens his mouth, to offer something, anything, but, before he can, Rhaegar sees one of the knight's hands moves to rest on Elia's neck while her hand comes to grasp the knight's bicep and amidst the worry Rhaegar feels a rush of anger. He has to know why Jaime could comfort her when he could not, but, any words that wish to bubble out die on his lips as the knight speaks again. "It is just us and His Grace, your lord-husband, here in these rooms; not Aerys. He is gone. Dead. He can not hurt anyone now."

The room is drenched in silence at this pronouncement. If Rhaegar cared to notice, perhaps, he would have recalled never hearing the knight speaking in a tone so soft, but, the effect of knight's words felt like as though he had been hit bodily as more thoughts come unbidden and crash about in his head. His father? What had his father done to her, that even now she is disturbed? Certainly he had not so far gone that he had taken a hand to Viserys, Rhaenys, or Aegon, a mere babe?

Elia's breathing starts to slow and her body continues to relax. The knight smiles encouragingly at her and she smiles back, yet, it is the smallest smile Rhaegar had ever seen. She still looks distressed; her eyes darting about. It is as if she does not recognize where she is, or at least is completely uneasy in these rooms. With a jolt, Rhaegar remembers they were in his chambers, which were formerly his father's; not hers.

When they started to share a bed again he always went to her chambers save this night. Even after the rooms were restored she had never shown the inclination to come anywhere near these rooms, save today. Rhaegar cringes recalling the first day he returned and Elia was adamant that Viserys stay away from the rooms, though at the time she used safety as an excuse.

Rhaegar blinks and exhales a breath, shuddering; the first time they do share his rooms she awakes from having terrible dreams featuring his father. He can not fathom what his father could have done to cause this though he can admit he was not blind to his father's faults. Whatever he had done it is strange that she would react the way she had. If it was his father she feared why did she push him away? Why had she responded positively to Ser Jaime?

Before he can think on the possible meaning to any of those questions, Ser Barristan enters with the Maester. At the sound of their entry Jaime helps Elia to stand and she leans slightly against the man and one his arms wraps around her shoulder and he guides her back to the bed. A flare of anger rises in Rhaegar again, but, he stamps it down. Now was not the time to give into baser feelings over this. He will have his answers soon enough.

Ser Barristan is frowning heavily. All of this seems to have distressed and confused him as much as it had Rhaegar, but, he does not speak. The man rarely does. Rhaegar briefly wonders if Ser Barristan asked questions of the Maester or if the Maester knew exactly what Ser Jaime meant by "dreams". Rhaegar eyes mechanically follow Ser Jaime as the man goes to light the solitary candle sitting on top of the table next to Rhaegar's bed. It strikes him as odd, but, there are more important things for him to concentrate on and so he looks towards the Maester who is now standing in front of Elia. The Maester was frowning as well, but, Rhaegar does not know if it is because of his being woken which disturbed the man or that he is disturbed by what occurred. Pycelle looks to Elia, "The same ones?"

Rhaegar frowns. Of course the Maester knows his wife had dreams, but, to what extent does the Maester know of what Elia dreams of? The only certainty Rhaegar has is that not even Pycelle thought to inform him.

Rhaegar's attention returns to Elia as she nods in the affirmative while Pycelle looks troubled, yet, resigned to it. The ease of the way the man walks over to the table with a pitcher of water, pours some into a goblet, removes a stoppered vial from his robes and quickly puts three drops into the goblet, and mixes the concoction assures Rhaegar that the man has enough experience in this particular matter. Rhaegar does not know if he should be put at ease by this or more disturbed. Once the elixir was prepared, the Maester walks over to Elia and hands her the cup for her to drink. Rhaegar notices absently that Ser Jaime is lighting some more candles; each of them set far away from the bed, but, close enough to give off some light.

The Maester speaks again. "Your Grace, the usual dose should be more than enough. It should help you sleep again." She looks dubious, but, acquiesces. Rhaegar notes the usage of the words, "usual dosage". The man nods encouragingly until she finishes the contents. Jaime has returns to Elia's side as she settles into to bed. The concoction seems to take effect shortly and her eyes start to close again, her body gradually relaxing. Seeing that, Maester Pycelle turns to Jaime and both men seem to have a silent conversation with their eyes. Yes, they know. After a few seconds, the Maester looks to Elia again to see that she has indeed fallen asleep.

Apparently satisfied, the Maester then turns to Rhaegar. "There is naught to do now the dream has passed, but, sleep." His expression is apologetic, but, resolute as Rhaegar nods. He does not know what else he can do, if anything. The still confused & silent Ser Barristan, now that the issue seems resolved and for the lack of anything he is able to do, after a few whispered words from his fellow knight that Rhaegar could not quite overhear, offers to walk Pycelle back to his quarters and both men leave silently.

Rhaegar turns to see Jaime pulling the furs about Elia's body in a way that speaks of experience and care, but, it is done so quickly the knight steps back as if this was simply a matter of routine. The knight, even more inexplicably to Rhaegar, moves to the fire and banks it; the flames dying out and the smoke disperses. Then, Rhaegar finally uses his voice, thought it is low, "Ser Jaime…"

He trails off when he notices the knight, now, only has eyes for Elia and thinks the knight may not have heard him. He tries again, slightly louder, but, not too loud so that he might wake Elia. Yet, again, there is no response. After a minute, the other man speaks so softly that Rhaegar could barely hear him. "Perhaps outside would be better, Your Grace."

Even if the suggestion is logical, and as disturbed by all this as he is, Rhaegar feels a stab of something that the other man would tell him what would be best for him to do, when it is his wife which suffers from bad dreams. Not willing to press the matter where they would risk waking Elia again, Rhaegar quietly stalks to the sitting room and pours some water into two goblets for them both. Rhaegar thrusts it into his hands when he observed the knight followed him out of the room, but, now, without so much as by-your-leave, the knight sits in a chair which gives the knight full view of the door he left open, keeping sentry.

Rhaegar has no other option except to sit across from the man. Rhaegar settles himself for a few moments hoping the man will start to tell him about what they witnessed, yet the man is silent. Jaime Lannister's face is focused on the open door and it betrays nothing but concern. Concern for his wife. Rhaegar stiffens at that thought.

"How did you know she had been dreaming?"

The knight blinks out of his reverie. The man's cheeks color, as if he was alarmed at having been taken unaware of his surroundings. Rhaegar thinks rather viciously that the seemingly perfect knight is not that perfect after all, before he stamps down on his feelings in shame. It is not as though he was of any help. The knight takes a sip, a somewhat drawn out one. To Rhaegar it seemed as though he was stalling for time. Still, Rhaegar's expression brooks no dissent; yet, Jaime Lannister flushes and looks as though he wishes for the earth to swallow him whole.

"She dreamed like this before, Your Grace." In Rhaegar's opinion, and judging by the other man's apologetic expression he also is aware that the answer is wholly unsatisfying. The answer is troubling all the same.

Rhaegar considers what exactly Ser Jaime had said. The knight said she "dreamed", not "dreams". So then, they are not exactly current, but, that they have been known to occur in the past. If the night terrors were in the past then why are they back today? What caused Elia to have a night terror now? Or had they never went away? It also does not explain why he had not been told, even if the dreams have gone away prior to this night.

Reflecting on his time in King's Landing since he had returned, Rhaegar is sure that he would have noticed if she had any. Or rather, certainly Elia would have told him if she had suffered from them. He cringes internally as neither of those two circumstances is necessarily true; even now. When he shared her bed, she always woke and was often gone before he awoke. She was either in the bath or already in the nursery. It troubles him that she still might suffer so, but, he missed it completely. But, again he reminds himself that these are not her chambers, but, his, or rather they used to be his father's. That itself leads to more confusing and disturbing thoughts.

As for her telling him if she even had suffered dreams this troubling, Elia would not say anything to him and he curses himself for it. Ashara laughed at him when he inquired about Elia's demeanor. His wife had her pride, and he had trampled on it already; more than once. Why tell him of another weakness that could be used against her, when he was someone who betrayed her trust in the first place. At any rate, Elia would not want his pity, either.

He could not tell the other man this, but, now that he has to have someone who would tell him what he wishes to know at his disposal he will ask the questions about what he missed and maybe he could help fix the damage done.

"You knew she had dreams this terrifying."

The knight looks at him for a moment, sighs deeply and closes his eyes all the while tilting his head back. "Yes, she has had bad dreams."

"How much does the Maester know?"

"I can not say what the Maester knows, but, her Grace told him she suffered from bad dreams some times. Many did, before and during the war. It seemed her frail health served a good enough excuse." He seemed almost proud of that.

"But, he does not now what she dreamed of."

"That, I can not say."

"However, you knew what she dreams of?"

"Yes." The knight's voice was almost devoid of breath.

"How is it that you know what they contain?"

"I was there when some of them occurred and she told me of them." While the man's tone does not seem to imply anything, Rhaegar's own mind supplies that it should have been him that was here.

"Why did neither of you tell the Maester?" What he truly desires is to ask is why they did not tell him.

"It is not for me to tell anyone what Her Grace thought or dreamed; it is not my place to question her judgment. As it was I was sworn."

"Sworn?"

He shrugs. "To protect her and the children as much as I was able; even if that meant from dreams, and even if my protection came in the form of silence." Rhaegar felt the response like a slap in the face. He had been the one to tell the knight to look after his family as he left. Who else had there been for Jaime or Elia to tell? Rhaegar's mother and father? The Maester whose loyalty could be divided between the Citadel and King's Landing? Ser Darry who was loyal to Aerys? The children? A kitchen wench? Rhaegar feels the tension building in the back of his neck. No; in King's Landing secrets were best left contained unless one wished to gamble with the power they wield and Rhaegar left Elia ill-defended long before war even started with the man who had been once a boy pressed into his father's service.

"Well? What are they about?" If the knight thinks his tone is impatient and sharp, so be it.

The man is clearly uncomfortable, but, Rhaegar knows the other man can sense that he will not let the matter drop unless he has his answers and it can not be forgotten, Rhaegar was his king. "Your father, Your Grace. It is always him."

"When did they start?" The knight, now, ducks his head, but, Rhaegar can see the shadow of incredulity which forms on the younger man's face and Rhaegar remembers the first conversation he had with the knight, on the day of his return. "From the time that Your Grace left for the Tower of Joy, there had been frequent instances where His Grace had been, ah, unkind to the Queen…"

Unkind, he knight said, then. In Aerys, he knew there was no kindness for his own much less anyone else; not for years. But, merely "unkind" does not cause what he just witnessed. Still, he said it while there were others about. Rhaegar snorted; the knight was protecting Elia even then.

"Just describe them."

The knight's face hardens, before he looks away. Rhaegar presses, "Ser Jaime?"

The man wets his lips as if he was nervous. "Perhaps, Her Grace would be the person to ask."

"I am your king, Ser Jaime, and I am asking you now."

The Lannister knight frowns. "Some times she dreamt of what had truly occurred and sometimes they are that which did not happen." The knight is attempting to be evasive and they both know it, but, Rhaegar will not relent.

"I require specifics, Ser Jaime."

Ser Jaime sighs deeply. "Sometimes there were night terrors which mirrored some of what had occurred, such as his berating at her, others like the former queen or some of the remaining servants, or the children. At other times she would dream of him hitting them. Though thankfully rarer than those, there were a few which were far more abnormal."

Bile rises in Rhaegar's throat. Was merely berating or assaulting his family not good enough for his father? Of course not. He knew full well his father had been cruel to his mother. There were few who had not heard the screams from the royal chambers. Rhaegar also knew his father hated Elia; for not being enough of a Targaryen, for not having their looks, for her delicate health, and later, the inability to have more children. But, no, not even the children were spared, except, Ser Jaime's words mean that there was more to this.

He prompted further, "Abnormal?"

Ser Jaime's hands clenched, as if in anger. His voice was low and dangerous.

"Once she dreamed he ordered her burnt alive 'for disobedience' whilst everyone watched; same as the Stark lords and other prisoners." Thinking of the conversation with Ned Stark Rhaegar cringes and shudders. The knight continues as though in a trance; his face darkening, "Some were more troubling." More troubling than dreaming one is burnt alive or garroted?

The knight continues, "In another, she dreamed he held her down and attacked her as he would your lady mother." Rhaegar shudders in horror remembering how his mother had been in her later years. "The last time…" The man hesitated; his face was a study in disgust. He took a deep breath and looked straight into Rhaegar's eyes before continuing. "It was after the king ordered the prince and princess to watch an execution of one of the men held in the black cells. In that one there was a dragon with his face sitting on the Iron Throne, smiling, as feasted on the bodies of children." The man's voice cracked slightly as he delivered that explanation.

Rhaegar feels sick and he has the urge to vomit which he just barely manages stop. In that moment had Aerys been alive Rhaegar would have happily taken up the mantle of kinslayer.

"How many times have there been dreams like this?" He has to know.

The knight vehemently spits out, "Even one was more than enough." Seeing Rhaegar's troubled expression, his tone softens, "A fair few, though the Seven demonstrated their mercy recently. From what I know there have been none lately."

Rhaegar has no reason to doubt what the man says; even then, knowing that there were no such dreams recently that is a small comfort. He had known how cruel his father could be, and he left them here, with his father; but, that had not mattered then, not when he had prophecies to fulfill. Shame & despair fills him. Safety was a relative term, here in King's Landing then, or anywhere truly, but, he paid it no serious mind, thinking the worst was behind him; behind them. It never occurred to him to ask for specifics in the early days of his return. Elia never mentioned any of this and so it slipped from his mind, and what with his duties he'd…

He reprimands himself for the flow of those thoughts. It is not for her to mention it. But, she still told Ser Jaime? No, he saw look that passed between the knight and the Maester to some extent. They both knew and she trusted them to some degree. But, not him.

"You knew what to say to calm her because you were with her when she had them." He thinks the other man may have heared the accusation in his voice, but, Elia's and the knight's closeness had long since confounded him and now here was something which proved that Elia and knight shared something profound and until today he was ignorant of it. He was kept ignorant of it.

The knight returns severely, "How could I not when she has seen mine?" The sharp response shocks Rhaegar as he never heard the man speak to him in that tone. Rhaegar would not traditionally allow a member of the Kingsguard to speak to him that way, but, it is late, exhaustion tempers him. Rhaegar is asking invasive questions, so he will excuse it, this once. But before he could say anything the knight's words register. The knight also had dreams such as this?

The man apparently recognized what he just said and modulates his tone, "I apologize, but, yes, I have seen to her after she had some of these dreams. The children had them sometimes as well; though that was even rarer."

Rhaegar flushes. His wife would not have been spared his father's cruelty, but, he had hoped the children would be. Now he knew that to be false hope. His father would not have been moved by their tender ages.

"Are you positive the Queen had no night terrors recently? Do the children still have them?" He needs to know, if anything can be done; if he could do anything.

The knight turns away and takes some time to answer as though he contemplated his words carefully. "No, I do not believe the Queen had any recently." Rhaegar let out a breath. "And the children?"

The fair-haired knight frowned. "Prince Viserys, had suffered a handful, but thankfully, not many, and not recently. I am rather ashamed to say that he was not completely unexposed to the King's excesses and I suppose his acclimation to unfortunate circumstances tempered the worst of it. But, the later ones he would admit to and it unburdened him…" The knight smiled a bit before continuing, though looking rather embarrassed as well, "For a child he is remarkably resilient." Rhaegar hears the conciliatory tone to that statement.

Rhaegar nods in understanding. From what he saw, his brother was nothing more than a typical boy. Rhaegar does recall Elia reprimanding Viserys for attempting to find their father's bones in these very rooms, in fact, as he said to sate his curiosity about them. At the time, while he thought that sort of curiosity was uncommon, he knew his family was anything but common.

Of course he also observed that the knight trusts the lad and adores Elia and thinks highly of Ser Jaime. Viserys, in the rare times Rhaegar has found himself in his presence, could chatter without ceasing, however, it had not escaped his notice Viserys's hesitancy when speaking of serious matters. They never spoke about their father and, in fact, outside of the argument they had about their mother's crown, about her either. He never thought any of it particularly unusual: he was old enough to be Viserys's father and because of it they were never close as brothers; and he had only returned after more than a year's absence, some months ago. If Viserys had nightmares, Rhaegar doubted he would be the one Viserys would have gone to. If he was honest with himself, he was thankful his brother had not rejected him completely.

The knight continues, breaking Rhaegar's concentration. "The Queen or the nurse would know more if Princess Rhaenys has them now, but, I do not believe she had any in some time."

Rhaegar flushes harder when he remembered how terrified of him Rhaenys used to be. He still remembers how she used to cling to Elia, Ser Jaime, or Ser Darry even, while in his presence and watch him, with a fretful expression on her face. She still was shy with him now. Given what they all seen, was it truly a wonder of how much time Elia & this knight willingly spend with the children?

It is a bitter thought that those he loved would be so affected and they could have avoided all of this if he had wrested control from his father when he had the chance.

Sleep calls to him and Rhaegar is far too tired and the impulse to close his eyes and sleep grows with every passing moment, but there are still some things he wishes to discus.

"She pushed me away, when I tried to wake her." He made it sound as though he was simply imparting information. The man nods; saying nothing and giving nothing.

"Do you know what caused it today?"

"Your Grace, I can not possibly know what affected Her Grace so today." If there is rebuke in that Rhaegar can not say.

"Do you know why one could have possibly occurred today?" The knight frowns.

The man shrugs, however, can not meet his eye when he says, "I do not believe that she has ventured in these apartments many times. It must have disoriented her in some ways to not have been acclimated with these rooms. She was likely far too distraught to see who was in her proximity and what with the fire in the hearth…"

Rhaegar wonders if the man is trying to avoid saying that being here with him reminded Elia of his father. But, he could hardly argue the point. Before sleep could fully take him he remembers something the knight had said to him that knight and a long-forgotten conversation he had some time ago with Ser Jonathor about Ser Jaime.

Rhaegar is uncertain if he should ask, but, he needs to know more about the fire-forged friendship of the knight and his wife and he need to know the extent of damage his father had wrought to those around him.

"Ser Jaime, you said the Queen had seen your dreams. Please, I need to know, did you suffer dreams of my father as well?"

The knight looks away again. The man takes a long sip of water. The knight's other hand clench at his side and his expression is varied. It is as if the man remembers feeling shame, horror, anger, or a mix of them all, before he replies, "Yes, Your Grace I did. All men suffer bad dreams at one time or another." The man's face takes on a haggard sort of quality and his eyes become unfocused as if they have a faraway look.

"Such as?" Rhaegar's sincerity must show on his face because the man simply exhales a breath and nods as if he gives his consent for Rhaegar to know his weaknesses.

"Once or twice I have dreamt of much what the queen has. In others, they were similar enough dreams, but, featuring different persons. Often they were as fanciful as the Queen's most unusual." He stops speaking and Rhaegar knows the knight will not say more. This was a man younger than him, but, he was a man of the Kingsguard and no man such as that would take such confidences with the King, even if it is the King desires it. It is one thing to elaborate to the king on what ails his kin, quite another to reveal their own weaknesses. Rhaegar smiles to himself though it is a bitter one; this one has his pride as well.

Yet, looking at the other knight there is no doubt in Rhaegar's mind that Jaime Lannister suffered badly even if he is trying to make a show of being stoic. The knight is clenching his hands so tightly his knuckles are as white as the cloak he is wearing. His lips are pursed tightly and though he tries to school his face, Rhaegar can identify anger and terror.

Thinking of what the knight had said, even in the vaguest terms, it does not take a fool to know what the other man may have dreamt about. Ser Jaime did admit to having dreams where those closest to Rhaegar were replaced by those beloved by the knight. Rhaegar never paid much attention to matters of court; however, he remembers his mother's screams and the piteous looks of the Kingsguard. He also remembers hearing whispers of how his father's eyes used to follow Lady Lannister when she was in his sights and of the row which caused Tywin Lannister to remove himself from King's Landing. Lady Cersei Lannister and Elia are to be good-sisters soon. Ser Jaime does have a younger brother Tyrion Lannister he says he is fond of.

He is no stranger to dreams, even terrible ones, but, they were his own. Before, he used to dream of mighty dragons, of what befell Summerhall, and had vision-dreams of a silver-haired prince and two dark haired princesses flanking him while they flew on dragons. During the war his dreams were darker: centering on the sounds of shouts and screams, the crash of metal on metal, the smell of blood and decaying flesh, and the sight of dead bodies strewn across fields. After that uneasy talk with Stannis Baratheon he dreamed he was back at the Trident. His mind supplied the sound of gurgling, and the vision of blood bubbling out of Robert Baratheon's throat as the other man fell off of his screeching horse.

Bile rises in Rhaegar throat once again. To his own horror he realizes the taste has become rather familiar. He takes a shuddery breath though it almost hurts to do so now. There is a pounding in Rhaegar's head and his chest feels tight because he knows before the he never truly gave a thought to the dreams which may haunt others or the horror that befell others.

For now neither man speaks; only the sound of their breathing disturbs the silence permeating the room. It is much too late and both men are tired physically and mentally. Rhaegar fights to stay awake, but, not even the impulse to close his eyes can stop him from glancing once more to where Elia is sleeping. He thinks about the children sleeping soundly down the hall and he cringes; his brother, daughter, and one son lived through a war while his sister and other son were born during it; the war he and his father started and it disgusts him even more.

He turns back to the knight. He looks so young and haunted. The ones left behind, they were in a war of sorts, one where even the victor was vanquished though it was by his own hand.

In this moment Rhaegar knows that had his father been yet alive and in front of him Rhaegar feels as though he would happily kill him again and again, to say nothing of simply deposing him. Kingslaying, kinslaying, or neither, unlike with Robert Baratheon this time would be justified and sweet.

Except his father is already dead, by his own fire, and Rhaegar can do nothing about it. All he has are conciliatory words, regrets, and promises, however the heaviness of his eyes means the ability to deliver even those slips away with each passing minute tonight, and there is just so much for him to know; so much he missed...

"Did you tell the Queen of these dreams you had?"

The knight is shaken, taken by surprise at being spoken to again. "Your Grace?"

"Did you tell the Queen of the dreams you had?"

The knight's expression shows his discomfort, but, he admits, "Some, not all. I think the ones she had and the children used to were painful enough, but, sworn as I was, I had to tell her something, though I did not tell of the worst of them."

Rhaegar is somewhat relieved. "Knowing what had been done; you had the strength to keep to your vows and continued to do your duty to keep my father safe until death took him?" To his sluggish mind the question once spoken almost sounded as if he was in awe because he can no longer claim loyalty to his father, even when he is dead.

Ser Jaime falls silent for a while. When he does speak, his voice was so soft Rhaegar, with his consciousness slipping, almost misses it entirely, "I did what I was able. Though I am not in the habit of breaking promises I have undertaken one can only do so much to protect someone from themselves."

Sitting in his antechamber, Rhaegar falls asleep before he can think about the other man's response, much less understand that the knight's response does not answer the question.


Rhaegar awoke in his antechamber when he hears a brisk knock at the door. He blinks slowly and stretches his arms out. He awoke in the chair he fell asleep in and with a stiff neck at that. also woke alone.

He rises and calls out at whoever was at the door to enter. It is just a servant who brings him a tray of breakfast. He dismisses her quickly, telling her to leave his bed unmade for now. The breakfast is intended for one person and he does not want to show his disappointment to anyone. When she had gone he opens the door to his bedroom for confirmation. As he expected, it is empty.

He sits down to eat perfunctorily while he attempted to think of how best to approach Elia about what occurred and what he learned last night; yet, now he grimaces, as king now there are duties which he can not avoid. He must postpone speaking to Elia because of the increasing petitions at court he had to listen to and pronounce judgments on.

He knows he is trying to stall this conversation He was the King. He could cancel the court proceedings and have Elia called to him or go to her so they may speak, if he wished it. He is not particularly enthused about speaking to Elia about his father anymore than he suspected she might be at the prospect, particularly if Ser Jaime's reactions are anything to go by.

Rhaegar knew his father was a hard man, made even harder, crueler, and madder by Duskendale and the weight of their family legacy, but, he had never learned how dangerous his father could be until it was far too late. His father was dead; he killed himself trying to be reborn a dragon. Rhaegar, until recently, had been merely regretful he had not deposed his father, except, since last night he regretted even more than that. Very few would remember his father fondly, though, perhaps, Ser Darry whose fierce loyalty to any Targaryen could not be questioned would, but, remembering how terrified Elia looked and how disturbed Ser Jaime seemed, Rhaegar can say that the silver king of his youth had been far gone for some time.

Still, it was not him who suffered because of his father. What right did he have to ask anything from her? More importantly does he truly want to know?


Jaime looks ahead to where Oberyn and Cersei are strolling hand-in-hand. Of the multitude of feelings warring within him jealousy is not one of them and that does surprise him, somewhat. Perhaps it is that he will not be completely kept away from her.

Of course his lack of feelings on that score could be because he is distracted by thoughts of the other woman in his life. Though this one, for all she is lovely, he harbors no romantic designs toward; even when he is currently in her presence. The Queen looks so very tired and troubled this morning. To his supreme discomfort, shame, and lack of surprise, it is something he is used to. After suffering a nightmare she always woke early and looked tired the morning after, though not many would see it. Unfortunately; it is something he learned to look for and had looked for in the past. Of course he was one of the few who could; not many cared to look at her too closely in the past; even if she was to be the queen, as she is now.

He purses his lips remembering that dreadfully painful conversation he had with the king. He is unsure if he should have said something at all; still, had he been a husband and father he would have wanted to know what ailed his wife and children. Of course the man doing the asking was his king and Ser Jaime does have his vows. The thought makes him smile, but, it is one of bitterness. Vows; was there any lack of them?

He is rather reluctant to broach the subject, but, given that she had not, he thinks she might not have spoken to the king either. That thought strengthens his resolve to speak to her about it even though he does feel guilt gnaw at him for revealing things said and experienced in confidence. He looks around just to observe if anyone was hearing distance. He sees no one close enough to overhear them, not even their siblings. But, before he can open his mouth she moves closer and speaks first.

"I should apologize for last night. I do not know what caused those night terrors. I had not meant to burden you or anyone with them. You have seen me through far too many and I am deeply ashamed and embarrassed you had to come to my aid again."

He tries to smile reassuringly, but, judging by her expression, it might serve no purpose. "It was no bother, Your Grace, you know that. It would be terribly ungallant of me, when you have seen me through the worst of mine."

"Still, it was my own fault it happened. I thought…"

"You thought what, Your Grace", in a lower voice, he questioned, "Elia, you thought what?" Ordinarily he would never be this familiar; however, these circumstances were anything but ordinary.

"I was foolish to think that since he had been dead and I had no such dreams since before His Grace returned that they would have gone completely; that I was strong enough and had overcome them and him, that none of it did. How weak am I that not even one night in his former chambers and they came rushing back as if they never left. He is dead and he still has a hold over me."

He is alarmed she would speak like this. "There is no weakness in that. Do you think that sometimes I do not think the same: that they would return? I know it does not seem to be much of a comfort, but, no one could have imagined the dreams would have returned by sleeping in that room or at all. Often I forwent sleep because I feared them. As I said last night, he is dead and can not have a hold on us, at all. It will pass. I know to be true."

His words sound pretty and are sincere in speaking them, but, he too is reminded of dreams he had. Dreams he refused to tell the king about: Aerys ordering the deaths of the Starks and other prisoners; and his own death. Often he dreamed of King Aerys slapping Elia, but, when he looked again it was Cersei with split lips and bruises. A few times, in his dreams, he hears the screams of the former queen, Queen Rhaella, morph into the screams of his long dead lady-mother.

Elia speaks again, this time smiling faintly, though uneasily. "I truly wish I had you faith. But, what a fool I made of myself, in front of you all. Ser Barristan probably thinks I have gone mad." Her smile fades completely. "I do not even know what to say to His Grace…

His suspicions were confirmed. "Ah, then I should tell you, he knows, and, I think he wanted to speak to you about them this morning."

She stiffens beside him. She looked horrified. "He knows? He knows what I have seen in those dreams? You spoke to him about what you saw and what I said to you? The children's dreams, as well? Everything?" That was said in a tone so low and sharp that he knew fury, worry, and disappointment warred within her. Jaime thought he saw Oberyn's back stiffen; as though he knew his sister was in distress; yet, Oberyn and Cersei never broke pace.

Jaime knew he had not wanted to divulge what he had, but, he had hoped the queen would understand why did. "Not all; never all of it. It is impossible to tell anyone who had not been here everything. Just what was worthy of note. You must believe me. After you succumbed to the effects of the Maester's elixir, he bid me tell about yours and the children's dreams and the like. I could think of no way around it. I could not disobey him in this. He was so very shaken by what he saw. I do not think he took it well, he seemed horrified…"

She must have seen something which caused her to relent and visibly, for him alone to see, deflate. "It seems I keep having to apologize to you. You are correct. It is his right to know. It was my own folly for not telling him. He would have learned sooner or later even if I had not told him." She sounded as though she was convincing herself.

When it was silent for a minute, Jaime breathed a sigh of relief, but, it was short-lived, when she looked at him and spoke again. "Did he ask if you had any yourself or to divulge yours? And did you?"

He knew his expression showed him to be abashed, because she was correct in her guessing. "I told him I too suffered from dreams akin to yours, amongst others, but not the specifics..." Unconsciously he started tracing a finger along his cloak which her eyes caught. She nodded her head; a knowing expression on her face and, despite the situation, faint humor in her voice. "Of course, neither I nor His Grace would expect any less from a loyal member of the Kingsguard." He draws his hand away from his sharply which causes her to ask, "What happened?"

At this time Cersei turned towards them in askance of something, but, Jamie smiled and shook his head. She raised an eyebrow at him and sent a soft smile his way before continuing on; though both she and Oberyn were now whispering, occasionally looking back to where their respective siblings were, only now they themselves were walking closer together than necessarily appropriate and causing quite a stir, up ahead. He wished he could take merriment from their antics, but the question the queen asked was still on his mind.

"Thankfully, though sleep took him not shortly after, he asked me how I could have served Aerys seeing what I saw and knew what I knew, even if I took the vows."

Her mouth was in a thin line; her expression tinged with worry. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him I was not one to break my habits and that before Aerys died I did what I was able though unfortunately I cannot protect those who do not wish to protect themselves." To them, even in death, he would always be Aerys; never His Grace, King Aerys.

She smiles a bit. "For all you are chivalrous and a sight to behold with a sword in hand, sometimes I think you are all wrong for the cloak you wear." Her tone, admiring.

He looks at her. "Oh?"

She finally laughs, but, her voice was still low, barely a whisper, "Ser Jaime, that was an answer tailored by someone who belongs at court, not of a knight. Lady Cersei says, of you both, she is more like Lord Tywin, but, there is something of him in you as well. That was a perfect answer if I have every heard one; an innocuous answer which says almost nothing if you are not paying attention."

He looks at her and tenses. "What do you make of my answer?"

"If there was anything I had learned, it is if the will is strong enough habits can even be kept or broken and we did what both of us were able, for whom we could. You were correct however; he could not have been saved if he had not wished it and he did make it rather difficult." She pats his arm and he releases the breath he never realized he was holding.


Rhaegar walks to Elia's solar after he decided he presided over enough decisions for petitioners. Enough time was lost. Now he and his wife would talk. He snorted inwardly. They seemed to be doing plenty of talking since he returned from war. Much to his chagrin, there was far more talking between them than they had done in their marriage before he left for the Tower of Joy; however, they have not been talking enough if they never talked about this. Then again, he would not have thought he would have to talk to her or anyone about dreams, much less horrid ones. His willingness to fulfill dreams at the expense of all else allowed his father to remain the center of bad dreams for others. He supposed the Seven would be laughing at him now.

Truthfully, he is not as surprised by their not talking about this as he should be. How does one even begin to speak about something that had not shown itself; this was the first time he had seen Elia like that at all? It was a flimsy excuse, but, a very real one. They were busy rebuilding: him with the numerous council meetings and overseeing never-ending petitions; her with the children, other duties, and keeping courtiers entertained. While they would talk frequently, they talked about everything else; everything immediate.

In the beginning they spoke some of Lyanna, though not much. Thinking of Lyanna confused him, even now. Not even speaking with her brother made Rhaegar any less confounded by it all. But, she was dead, and he'd done enough to Elia to bring Lyanna up with her overmuch. He saw the look on her face when he told her that he was going to legitimize Jon. She tensed, her lips twitched a bit, and she simply said, "Of course", and no more on that subject.

They also used to speak regularly about coronation related events, but, now that that was over and done with there was no point to speak on that any more. They would speak occasionally of the preparations of Oberyn's and Ashara's weddings; but, he was not particularly interested in that. They spoke of the Baratheons, though the youngest Baratheon is a topic of conversation because of Viserys; and the others less so. Robert Baratheon was a stranger to her and a difficult subject for him; Stannis Baratheon is a polite man to them both, but, warmer to Elia; but, likely that was Ashara's doing.

Mostly they would speak about the children, though, besides Viserys's education, Rhaenys's toddling about, and the children's general health, the children were much too young to have anything else to speak upon. Elia would attend some sessions at court with him, and they would speak about what happened at court when she was not present; but, no, Rhaegar would not have thought to speak about nightmares. Certainly, they never spoke about his father. He never truly thought they would have to; his father hated Elia, and his father mistrusted, and likely hated, him as well; then again, his father had little love for anyone save himself. To have brought him up would have only been dredging up the past and it would have served no purpose save to trouble them both. Only now there was ease with their practiced routines and no longer were there distractions to keep the past at bay and it had come storming back.

He was let in to her solar by a handmaiden and soon he and his wife were left alone. Elia now looked unhappy and tired, but, resigned; ever the highborn lady, she was polite. When she poured herself a cup of wine, she offered him some as well and filled the cup almost completely. Rhaegar would have laughed at this, except he suspected he would need a full cup.

"Ser Jaime tells me you spoke of the dreams I have had, and it should not have fallen to him. I truly apologize; it was my responsibility to tell you about them. I had not wanted to worry you, but, it seems they had not gone away as I hoped. I had thought I was past them."

"Yes, you should have told me of them, even if you want to spare me worry." He is not just talking about the dreams, but, she has not way of knowing that. He is not angry with her. He hopes she recognizes it. His father was to blame and he was the one to leave her with his father. "It does worry me. You were terrified. I have never seen you so shaken. Still, I am the one who should apologize; I could do nothing but watch as it happened."

He can not read the expression which makes its home on her face. "I would not have expected you to help with something you had no way of knowing occurred at all and that was my doing. I should have been honest with you instead of trying my hand at brave." Though she does not say it, Rhaegar thinks if he had never left this would never had occurred at all.

"You are." She looks at him confusedly. "Brave, I mean."

Now she laughs sourly and turns away, "What sort of bravery is that where I am held captive by my own dreams?"

"You are here the next day. We are here. We still live and try to move past dead dreams. There is bravery in that." He speaks the words to her, but, he speaks for himself.

He speaks again, "Last night, it was about my father; what he did to you and the children." There was no evading that both know last night she dreamt about Aerys.

She takes a sip before responding tremulously, "Yes."

"Why did you never tell me what he had done?"

"He was your father, Rhaegar; and my good-father. He was also my king. He is also dead. What was done was done and nothing could erase what happened no matter how I wish it." Even now he sees the way others look with distrust at the Starks, the Tully's, Lord Stannis, and even the Hand. King Aerys was mad; however, he was still the king and it is disreputable to speak ill of the dead and of one's kin, no matter what they had done. Still that does not explain it way her eyes evade his and the odd tone to her voice causes him unease. It is just not the horrors suffered by her because of Aerys she talks about. She has not forgiven him for Lyanna and for Jon, for leaving them; no, not quite, she has forgiven, but, not forgotten. She does not trust him; not like Ser Jaime. The last thought comes fierce and unbidden.

"Yet you told Ser Jaime?" He phrases it like a question, but, it wasn't.

Her voice is steady, but, soft. "He was here to see us have these dreams and suffered them as well. Once or twice we had the same dreams. He is one of the few here to know what it was like." Though he nods in acknowledgement because he knows what she says is true, Rhaegar hears: He was here, you were not. We suffered together; we suffered your father together, alone for the most of it. It is now him that needs to gulp wine.

He shakes himself out of those thoughts. She did not say what she had to cut him, he did not think so. To gather himself he asks another question.

"Do the children…had he hurt them much? Do they still suffer horrid dreams?" It would be foolish to simply ask if his father had merely hurt them once. From what little he remembered of Viserys and Rhaenys from before the war they had not feared him. They would not have had to learn he was not an object to fear if there had not been something to fear to begin with. Elia's dream and the knight's words merely confirmed it.

"Thank the Seven there were not many times though we had tried to keep them away…" She sounded shy and ashamed; whether because she felt she failed to keep them safe or because of residual lessons of courtly manners preventing her from acknowledging that she even had to try and keep the children safe from their own kin, Rhaegar could only guess. Of course, "tried" was not "managed" so he is much more positive about it being the former.

She gathered herself before continuing. "No dreams for some time now. Viserys would rarely talk about any dreams he would have before and during the war, as if divulging anything about them would demonstrate a weakness in him. He said 'Even if he had not been in battle yet, he wanted to be a warrior one day and warriors do not fear dreams'. Eventually we talked him around and he let us comfort him."

Rhaegar's tongue feels heavy in his mouth. His dreams demanded he be a warrior and it was after he had been battle that he knew what it took to be one. Now his victory does not seem so sweet; not with what it cost.

Elia looks to him, for him to say anything. He manages, "You were correct to try with him. Children ought to be children, no matter how royal their blood. I think you were good for him."

She smiles a bit in response. He presses on, "What of Rhaenys? Does she still have them?"

"No, she does not." Her tone is apologetic; Rhaenys is still painfully shy when he is near, though she no longer cries upon seeing him. That it could be considered a small victory is distressing, but, children are durable that way.

However the wistfulness of that future is clouded by what he will address now. Thinking of her dream and what Rhaegar remembers listening to Ser Jaime last night he has a measure of what his father had done, but he wishes to hear it from Elia.

"He had hurt you many times?"

"Enough". Her answer is sharp and she amends it. "Yes."

"He had threatened you?"

"Yes." The "Of course" lingering in her voice was plain.

"He had hit you many times?" A nod.

Remembering Ser Jaime's answers and reactions, last night a question, an ugly thought, forms in his mind.

"Like he used to my mother…did he…?" He cannot even get the question out.

She laughed hollowly, "No; never that. At first I was not Targaryen enough; then I wasn't worthy enough; not for him, even for that. Whatever he was, he was capable of kindness, even if that was not his intention." She smiles unevenly, but, there is no more humor in it than what Rhaegar feels.

Anger wars with confusion; "What?"

"He hated me. My looks were just one of the reasons he would cite regularly. I was good enough to be his good-daughter because I have Targaryen blood; nothing more recommended me to him. You know that." The last sentence was spoken softly, but, Rhaegar felt the accusation in the tone and it was justified. He did know how his father felt. His father was not shy about sparing anyone shame or discomfort. His father had voiced his feelings toward Elia more than once, but, he had dismissed it then.

She starts speaking again. "'What would be the point?' He'd say. He had no love for me, or, anyone truly, but, in his rages he would say that it would serve no purpose to debase himself with someone useless like me: I was barren so I could not give him a child even if he wanted from me so that…" She trails off and looks away to take a healthy sip of wine.

Rhaegar can feel the disgust and dread rising within him; however, he prodded; now he must see this through. "That what, Elia?"

She turns to face him; her face is tinged green, she looks torn and troubled, "He said it was a waste of time to use it as a lesson…" Rhaegar wishes he could simply be confused, but, he is even more sickened and enraged.

She continues, though her voice takes on a distant tone. "He used to say to the Queen it meant that she belonged to him; to traitors like Tywin Lannister only his lady-wife's death prevented him from teaching what it meant to try and reach higher than a person ought; but, of what worth could it possibly be to defile himself with me, when you took what you valued most with you?"

When she finishes speaking she lets out a sound which could have been disgust, horror, or sadness, but, it was ambiguous. She spoke the words as if they were familiar; it was either that his father's rages were frequent enough or she not only understood the meaning of those words but had come to accept them as truth. Did she come to believe she meant nothing to him? He feels sick while he fights the urge to vomit, but, he also feels burning rage.

He wanted to know, to confirm how much of a monster his father was. Now he has more of an answer than he ever desired. What he does not know is how he should feel or what to say.

Troubling thoughts swam in his mind. His father's barbs were always meant to cut and now looking at Elia, Rhaegar looks back on the way they have been on his return and it makes him question his and Elia's relationship. He had wished to return to the way they were before, but, now, all of this, he does not know if she wanted the same or just acted out of habit, out of duty, or something else entirely. They had been sharing a bed for weeks; had she only done so because she felt she should and that she needed to? He remembers speaking to his Hand and others, who are rather admiring that their Queen was rather "practical". Was their relationship just another thing she was practical about because she thought he had not loved her like his father said, but, had no other recourse?

"Do you believe that; what he said about hurting you would not affect me?"

"He hated me. There is no reason to take anything he said as truth and surely not now; not when he is dead and you are here, with me." Rhaegar swallows a sip of wine at the response. She said she does not believe it, not that she had never had. He remembers his mother's and Ashara's words to him after Harrenhal, "You honored another woman over your wife and your future queen and do you think she would take it as anything less than a slight?" He had acted to honor Lyanna, but, not for the reasons they thought. Somehow, it always comes back to that, but, thinking about that will not help now.

"Last night, you pushed me away. Did you confuse me for my father?" Speaking with Ser Jaime caused him to think about the similarity in looks and their willingness to shatter conventions because of their dreams.

"Last night was an aberration. I was in the throws of a bad dream. I do not confuse you with your father. You are not him. You could never be him." He had hurt her all the same with Lyanna.

He blurted out the next questions. "Do you share my bed because of duty? Is that the only reason why you are with me and no one else?"

The startled look on her face shows him that she had not expected these particular questions, but, she is also angry. "Who said such horrid things? Who has been filling your head with nonsense and lies such as that? How could you ask that of me? How low of a person do you think I am?"

He replays the words he spoke in his head. Was it a wonder she was furious with him now? "I apologize, that was thoughtless of me to speak in that manner. I needed…"

"Needed what, Rhaegar?" She was still angry.

"I needed to know if you are not just with me because you feel you ought to, that you do not feel pressured because you feel it is your duty as my wife. Even after your dreams Ser Jaime could comfort you while I could not."

On her face exasperation fights with anger and disbelief, when she spits out, "He has seen me have dreams such as those for the better part of a year. He is a member of your Kingsguard and I am your wife, just yours. There will never be anyone else, there could never be."

In a resigned voice, she says, "I share your bed because I wish to." The unspoken "You fool" was quite evident.

"Why?" The look she sends his way tells him she thinks he is being incredibly dense. Incidentally, it is one that looks very much like he sees consistently on her brother, Oberyn's, face.

"You are my husband and I do love you. Is that not reason enough?"

"I have hurt you in the past."

Her voice is soft, but, unwavering. "Yes, yes, you had hurt me, I do not deny it, but, never like him; not even then. Did I not say that you are not the same man who left and that it pleased me? I doubt you could hurt me like he had or like you had once, ever again. That I am sure of."

Thinking about Ashara's smirking disbelief, he hesitatingly asks, "Are you sure? Or do you still fear that I will set you or the children aside? I never would have. Is that why you accepted Jon, even my legitimizing him?"

One slightly hysterical bout of laughter leaves her, as if she cannot fathom what she is hearing. "I am sure. If I was not I would have left for Sunspear and would have even tried to take the children with me if I was not sure of you." He is shocked at her response and his chest tightens at even the possibility of her leaving of her taking the children turning into a reality.

She looks at him sadly. "Oh, Rhaegar, I believed it to be cruel at the time and I had been hurt because of it. I will admit I did fear for our children and I still do, but, whatever you did, you did not out of malice. I know that, now. Did you just not hear me when we spoke about what your father had done? As cruel as he was, what you did proved to be a kindness, but, not even gratitude, duty, or habit, would be enough for me to do something that I do not wish; even remain your wife. Do not doubt that."

His body sags in relief, even if the words he heard were not particularly kind. However, she continues, and he tenses again. "With Jon, this is not Dorne; bastards are not treated kindly and he is yours. I do see the looks of pity when others catch sight of him or speak to me; how their eyes always ask how I could forgive that you were unfaithful, take your child so easily into my home and hold him in my arms. I can not help what others think or feel, but, I have seen enough cruelty to wish it on anyone else. I have no desire for others to taste it from me, least of all your child. You would try to do right by him. I can understand that."

"But, you were tense when I told you that I was legitimizing him."

"Yes, I did tense, and for a moment I was pained, remembering, and I can not say that I will never again. Still, that is a burden for me to overcome, so please let me."

He agrees with a smile, although it is filled with melancholy, "As you say. But please, do not keep things from me which distress you. I do not think I could bear to find out this way, not again."

She nods, "I swear it…" She trails off, uncertain and nervous.

"What is the matter?" Certainly there was nothing else too troublesome, no other horror that went unaddressed.

She hesitates before speaking. "I have one request of you; that is, if you are amenable."

"Anything." He was ready to give her just about anything.

"In the mean time, if you wish to spend the night with me, come to me. I am not ready to join you in those rooms, if I ever will be."

He smiles reassuringly, finally able to relax somewhat. "Very well; I think something can be arranged."

If a simple thing such as that could begin to help, even just to a small degree, then he would do that.


A/n: Certainly no one thought Aerys being dead meant he can't cause trouble...

Chapter 10: Secret's, Lies, and Private Lives