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Chapter 21

"Sister?"

At the appellation, Elia smiled faintly as she withdrew her hand from the door-handle and turned towards Viserys once more. Since returning from Dorne, she was no longer just 'Elia' to him. "Yes, my little prince?"

But, as much as he had grown taller and more formal he sends a familiar, disgruntled look in her direction and she has to bite back a smile. "Aegon and Jon are younger." The pout on his face is stubborn, like his words.

Like she had done when she first entered her good-brother's rooms, Elia settles herself in the chair next to his bed. "You were my first little prince and you always will be, no matter how many years or princes came after."

Sensing defeat he sighs and she fights a laugh even as she goes tucks a strand of hair away from his face. Ever since he had returned from Dorne, Viserys had deemed himself too grown for many things; chief among them was much 'mothering' from her, except for the rarest of occasions. Her good-brother took Rhaegar's leaving soon after his return to mean he was responsible for her and the children while Rhaegar was away. Most indulged him, even dear Jon, who had initially been nonplussed when he saw how Viserys trailed after her into the council chambers, clearly indicating his intension to be included in any part of decision making. While she allowed it for the most part, and as foolish as she knew it sounded, Elia wanted all off her children to remain the children they were.

"Are you going to the nursery once you go from here?"

She was. She had the same ritual every night, but Viserys knew that. She wondered why he would ask. "Yes."

"I started to teach Aegon more words. Jon started too." She smiled. Some times Rhaenys would join in. Viserys seemed so proud of the way they were both "helping". Targaryens always were proud and independent, but, she wondered why he would bring up such a thing now.

"I heard." Aegon had started to speak and she was sure Jon and Daenerys would follow soon after. She was proud at how clever they all were or how she found so much joy in their fledging efforts, but, witnessing it only served to remind her that Rhaegar is not here for it. He missed so much already and he will miss more for what ultimately turned out to be the same purpose. Part of her resents it while another hates herself for thinking in such a manner.

"Do you know when Rhaegar will be back?" She stalls at the plaintive question. So, that was the purpose of this. She wishes she had an answer for him. She would like some for herself. She knew what path Rhaegar would take to the Wall and not too long ago a letter from Winterfell arrived in Rhaegar's hand. But, she knew even his arrival at the Wall did not ensure her husband's quick return no matter how much she, or his brother, wished for it.

Pulling Viserys into an embrace, she smiles slightly as he does not argue about it or the kiss she presses into his hair. "The letter did not say, but, it will not be long before he gets to the Wall. He should have left Last Hearth by now."

There only had been a few letters, but, Rhaegar had written of his journey North and he had written before leaving Winterfell. Knowing Rhaegar would go to Winterfell of all places brought back thoughts she tried her hardest to put behind her. Still, in the letter he wrote about how much he missed her and the children and she had been touched by his concern. But, the less innocuous words in the letter caused no end to her worry.

Viserys nodded. "I miss him."

She whispered. "I miss him too." She meant it. The Red Keep was always a bustling place, but, it was lonely without her husband. She had gone without him for months before, but, she had no reason to enjoy those and she did not enjoy being without him now; not for this, no matter what he might find. It certainly had not helped letters from elsewhere was full of felicitous news. She celebrated how Oberyn wrote of the way Cersei was delighted with their Loreza and how happy Ashara was with Lord Stannis and their Steffon, but, she could not help but be jealous; even of poor Lysa who lost her first baby soon after getting to the Vale, but, was now pregnant with another. They were sharing their spouses with their children while she had to share hers with the realm, first, and with a prophecy which may lead to danger to their children or mean nothing at all, second.

"Why did he go?" What could she even tell Viserys when she does not fully understand this herself? Then, Rhaegar shared his thoughts about the Prince that was Promised, but, she did not want to believe even when he did. Though he admitted he had been wrong before, he still believed. He found signs when Aegon was born. There had also been his disappointment she could no longer give him a child without endangering her life. Of course, there was also Lyanna. All of that, there had to be a reason for, didn't there?

When he returned from war she thought he was done with it all and it was no secret to him she wanted that. Then that letter from Maester Aemon came. She would have prayed the letter was simply an inquiry into their children, but, she knew enough to know such was a thing a fool hoped. Still, she could tell nothing of this to Viserys. "He wanted to visit Maester Aemon."

She releases a breath she had not realized she was holding when Viserys nods, accepting her answer.

"Have you ever met Maester Aemon? What is he like? Did you know he could have been king? Why did he not want to be? Why did he join the Night's Watch?"

At the deluge of questions she tries to put aside her previous thoughts and laughs aloud as she holds up a hand to interrupt him, even if to her ears her laughter sounded hysterical. She had quite forgotten he loved to ask all sorts of questions and some of them were not ones appropriate for someone his age. She mused on how this was another thing one had to contend with when faced with Targaryens. "Viserys, one at a time. Give me the opportunity to answer one question before you ask another." Give her time to answer appropriately is what she does not say.

For a moment he looks apologetic, but, the expression was far too quickly replaced by an expectant look. She did not mind encouraging Viserys interest in family, but, for far too long Targaryens and prophesy were intertwined. When she wrote to Aemon, his responses back made no mention of prophesies of any sort, though she was sure he knew what Rhaegar told her about and she knew he believed.

Settling on the answers she was partially comfortable with, she admits, "I have never met Maester Aemon, though he and your brother had written to one another frequently. He has written to me as well. He seems very kind and very wise."

It was the truth, but, not the entire truth. Maester Aemon had seemed kind, but, she never met him and she could not entirely separate him from Rhaegar's obsession with prophesy.

As inadequate as her answer was, she considers herself fortunate her answer seemed to please Viserys. Unfortunately, with the rest of these questions, she did not know quite how to answer what she knew was not for her to tell.

"I do not know for certain why he chose to join the Night's Watch, but, I think he knew his brother would make a fine king and this was one way of ensuring it happened."

No one truly knows why Aemon chose as he had, but, he must have had other reasons besides love of his brother. She just wishes she did not suspect it was for the reasons she does.

"What is the Wall like?"

Her lips twitch in surprise and with no small amount of relief. "Cold, I imagine."

Viserys looked positively indignant at that answer, however, there was only one way a person who had never seen the Wall could respond to such a query. He looked poised to argue and she could only think of one solution. "Perhaps you would write to Maester Aemon, yourself, if you truly wish to know what life on the Wall is like."

He stares at her in surprise, as if the thought never occurred to him. "I could?"

"You have questions I cannot answer and so you must ask someone who can, particularly as they involve him."

At his pleased look, she could not help sternly add, "If you wish to write to him, you shall, but, he is your elder and I expect any letter you might send be polite and not too intrusive. There are some things he might choose not to answer."

It was not only because the Maester had his own duties she admonished Viserys. Rhaegar's interests had been augmented and abetted by his correspondence with the Maester. Now that she voiced the possibility of Viserys writing to him she hopes she does not come to regret it. She knew what Daena seeing the Doom of Valyria had proved, but, prophesies nearly consumed Rhaegar once before, like it had consumed so many of his forbearers. Who knows where any of this may lead?

Picking up on her mood, he nods solemnly. Once more she rises, only to see Viserys clasp her hand.

"Elia?" She laments how it is this which takes for her to be 'Elia' again.

"Yes?"

"Tomorrow, can we go to the Sept and pray for Rhaegar's quick return."

She steps closer to him again and leans down to kiss his forehead once more. "We can and we will."

She straightens and walks to the door, "For now, I need you to sleep. You have lessons in the morning."

Moving to close the door behind her, she stifles another laugh when he groans audibly enough to cause Ser Lucas to trail off from where he was speaking to Ser Gerold to look at her questioningly.

She clears her throat to give her a moment, while Ser Gerold extends an arm to her. "Ser Lucas, I would appreciate it, when Ser Oswell comes to relieve you, if you would ask him to ensure Prince Viserys gets to his lessons on time tomorrow morning." With this, she knew what to do and how to act. She wishes she could take comfort in such things.

His lips twitch. "Of course, the Prince has lessons with Maester Pycelle, I believe."

"Yes." Though she should, she could never bring herself to corrected Viserys' dislike of the older Maester because while the man knew his duty, she simply did not trust him.

"Of course, Your Grace. Will there be anything else?"

"No, thank you, Ser Lucas."

When Ser Gerold escorts her to the nursery they wave away the night nurse and she gives into the very strong impulse to kiss all of her children. He had been patient while she watched her sleeping children, but, she caught the concerned expression on his face.

Tensing, she swallows thickly. When he does not speak, she prompts, "Let's hear it, Lord Commander."

His eyes glance at the closed door before going to stand next to her. After a moment, he whispers, "Ser Arthur wrote to me." She should have expected the Lord Commander would get regular reports, if not from Arthur, then Ser Brynden, but, what happened that the Lord Commander would speak to her about this now? Viserys' questions had highlighted many things she would have rather not think of, but, now there was this. "When?" She curses herself when her voice is more strident than she intended. She should not let her fears get the best of her.

The Lord Commander, thankfully, decided to ignore how terse her question had been. "This morning."

She nodded, trying not to become annoyed at this being kept from her and nearly failing. Ordinarily, she does not meddle in the affairs of the Kingsguard and Rhaegar's absence was no excuse to do it, but, Arthur was with Rhaegar and so if there was something amiss she should be kept appraised of whatever the other man learns.

She tries to stifle such thoughts. She knows if there was something truly dire he would have spoken to her earlier. "I see. And what does Ser Arthur say? Everything is well, I hope. Has something else unexpected happened?" Even as she says the words, she tries not to think of the worst, but, she is no comfortable about the about this venture of her husband's than she had been when he first suggested it. There were also other less intangible considerations about Rhaegar's going North, the least of which included inhospitable hosts; sickness; and the potential dangers bandits, wildings and men of mountain clans can cause.

"Your Grace, they are safe and hale as far as I know." She nods, not trusting herself to speak just yet because Ser Gerold still looks troubled.

Should she be even more anxious? She almost thinks that might not even be possible. "What concerns you, then, Ser Gerold?"

"Your Grace, he tells me, His Grace has not been sleeping well."

She nods. She knew that, but, what did Ser Gerold know about what Rhaegar entrusted her with? "In what way?"

"He tells me His Grace has been plagued by more than one bad dream."

She had not known Rhaegar for this long not to know how it was said he had been born in grief and touched by melancholy. And of course, Rhaegar wrote to her of those dreams. Still, she was curious about how Arthur would interpret them and what Ser Gerold would say.

"Ser Arthur would not delve into specifics, but, if I might be frank, Your Grace?"

That was almost unexpected. Ser Gerold was usually never so direct. "Please do."

Ser Gerold presses his lips into a thin line. "Ser Arthur tells me His Grace has become rather withdrawn and anxious. Now he tells me His Grace dreams sleeps poorly and this has become more typical after they had visited the crypts belonging to the Starks whilst at Winterfell."

The Lord Commander's voice is thick with disapproval, but she did not know who or what disapproval was directed towards. Even without that, he looked so terribly concerned speaking to her about Winterfell. He always was. Aside from Ser Gerold, only Ser Barristan could be said to be more traditional of the Kingsguard and as such did not like to go outside of his duties. The one exception where he acted beyond his role was his obeying Rhaegar to stay at the Tower of Joy when he knew he should have returned to King's Landing. Of course, he and the two others who had been at the Tower of Joy, would never speak of it to her, much less anything else connected to it.

However, this was no time for maintaining sensibilities. "I know."

If this had been any other time she would have savored the look of surprise on the usually unflappable face. But, when it came to Rhaegar and the North, none of this was something she could think about with any sense of comfort. For that matter, the same held true for Ser Gerold who had been with her when Brandon and Rickard Stark and the rest of those lords were slain. "You know about this, Your Grace?"

"I do." Sometimes she thinks she knows too much. "His Grace has written to me and in his letters he described what Ser Arthur relayed to you."

"He has?" She can practically taste how curious he was and how disturbed at her admission though she thinks it should come to no surprise her husband would write to her. But, then, Rhaegar had not the last time he ventured far from King's Landing so she could excuse how others would think Rhaegar wouldn't, even when she did not like knowing why this is.

She looks down towards her children to give her time to gather the words which might give Ser Gerold some reassurance, if any. She wants to reassure herself. "Ser Gerold, His Grace never sleeps easy and would not when there is something that needs doing. He saw the need to go North and the suggestion is not without merit. He knew it meant also going to Winterfell. His Grace and I have discussed the events preceding the outbreak of war and the role the Starks had largely unwittingly played in it at length. He understood the difficulties surrounding this for all involved and chose to do so regardless. As much as I dislike how I am unable to help him when he needs it of me and while I fear for him I have to trust that he will endure." She rips her eyes away from her children to look at Ser Gerold again. "We all must. There is no other choice."

As true as the words are they taste like poison on her tongue.


Rhaegar jerked awake. He rose and blinked to adjust to the darkness which surrounded him. He looked over to… the empty space beside him; the empty and cold space beside him.

This was not his bed. In the darkness he looked about the strange room, sighing softly. This was not his room, either. His mind whispered, 'This was not his place'. If it was, Elia would have been here, sleeping next to him; but, she is not. If this had been his place, while Viserys was much too old and the rest of them much too young to try, Rhaenys would have perhaps climbed in between them on some night if the mood struck her. None of his children were here, either.

Looking about the worn room he is all too aware he chose to be away from his wife, his children, and his home. No amount of telling himself that it was for his children he was here will change that.

He looked at the too thin blanket still covering him and thought the better of it. Trying to go back to sleep will not help. He knows he not be getting any more of it. But, then, he does not remember the last night when sleep had not evaded him to some extent if not entirely. He gets up from the far too cold bed and goes to basin on a low table to splash some water on his face, even though that is just as cold as everything around him.

He slowly opens the door to see Arthur.

"Your Grace?"

"Arthur, you are awake? You did not have watch this night. Where is-"

Arthur shook his head "I sent him to bed. I had trouble sleeping. If I cannot go back to sleep I might as well be put to good use. It is too cold.."

"It will only get colder, Arthur." They share a smile; two Southrons in the North. It was unnatural, but, then, nothing of this was natural.

"Your Grace, what woke you?" When he did not say anything Arthur frowned. "Did you have another?"

He shook his head. Arthur knew of his dreams, of course. He had so few secrets from Arthur. He knew he was not the only one disturbed by it. Arthur had also seen fit to tell Ser Gerold, but, Rhaegar could not blame him. Ser Gerold had not liked this venture and certainly disliked having to be left behind. Ser Brynden surely knew, though Rhaegar was certain the other man was not aware of the particulars. Elia knew all, but, she was not here.

"What was it this time, if not that, then?"

"I cannot say I remember much." The images were jumbled. Even if he could untangle the mass of unfished and incomplete thoughts it was not as though he could do anything about them.

"Was it Winterfell?" That ashen, guilty look on Arthur's face tells him Arthur wishes it was not. Arthur had no reason to be guilty. He thinks Arthur would have never gone if he knew what the younger Stark had wanted to show and Arthur would have tried to stop him if he did. Whatever happened, it was his fault, no one else's, and not Arthur's.

"No, I cannot say what it was exactly, but, memories of Winterfell it was not." He would have liked to blame his time in Winterfell for this, but, he knew better. Places should have no effect on his mind. But, that is not entirely true. One would only have to look to Summerhall to know that places could affect even men like him.

Spending his nights at Summerhall with only Knights of the Kingsguard and the stars for company had not prepared him for this journey. Nothing, no books he read and no one he spoke to, had prepared him for life in the North. If Winterfell was cold and Last Hearth even colder, the road away from and further North was more than he ever desired. Here, in the so-called New Gift, these nights in the North were some of the worst he experienced. Suspecting he will experience many more once he finally gets to the Wall is one of the few things to halt his tongue. What troubles him is not just the cold. He wishes it could just be that.

He shivered again. The night in Winterfell he visited the crypts belonging to the Starks he dreamed of the dead; the deaths he was responsible for. He laments those dreams, but, not nearly to the degree that he laments how those dreams came to exist. He laments his role in why those came to be. On this night, he thought of the dead, though this time he thought of the long dead.

"What was it then?" Curiosity laced with worry.

"It was probably just the cold and the history of the place. Dragons might have not made it a habit to venture this far North with or without a reason, but, Queen Alysanne did."

Arthur nodded, but, said nothing.

These past few nights he and his party trekked through the New Gift. On this night they were at the Queenscrown. When they had first arrived Rhaegar looked about abandoned holdfast he wondered if something in him was at fault given how differently he and his predecessors viewed the North.

Queen Alysanne had bestowed this tract of land and this structure to Night's Watch because she saw something of worth. He was not going to see the state of the Night's Watch. Most kings and queens after and that list now included him, sent rapers and thieves and noble sons who had nothing else and had little reason to hope for anything else. The few exceptions included Maester Aemon, but, what did he know of the man besides what family lore said and the words written on parchment traded between them once every little while?

Unlike Alysanne, he, on the other hand, has not even finished half of this journey and hopes he never has to make it again. If anything, even with the need, he has long since regretted coming North. But, as with most things, he went too far to turn back now, no matter how much he wished he could. He wondered what Queen Alysanne would have said of him.

He knew what history said of those who came before him. He knew what would be said of his father. How would history look upon him?

To change the subject he says, "How long have you been awake?"

Arthur shrugged. "Not very long."

"It will not be long until we reach Castle Black, I think."

Arthur, uneasily agrees, "Lord Stark thinks it should be less than a week, if we make good time."

Rhaegar nods. Benjen Stark, much like his brother, did not speak much unless necessary. He was never impolite, but, after the last time Benjen Stark kept his distance from him. Rhaegar saw no reason to change it. They were in a small company and so he knew that the Stark would always be near him, but, when he looked at the boy, and Rhaegar could only think of him as such, he thinks he might have brought ruin to him like he had the others in his family.

With Benjen Stark, even without being one who sleeps down the hall from him, Rhaegar knows that he will forever remember the boy took him down to his family's crypts and how Rhaegar learned of why that came to be.

"Lord Benjen."

"Yes, Your Grace?" The younger man's voice is unsteady and he looks startled. Rhaegar wants to shake himself at the thought. He was not rude to Rhaegar, but, they did not speak much. Even at Winterfell, the other spoke little to him, why would he be more open to speaking to him when they were nowhere near his home. Yet, there was nothing to take offence at when the boy had enough reasons to avoid him. Still, Rhaegar had a question for him.

"First, let me say that I am grateful that you would accompany us on this voyage."

The sullen faced youth shrugged though he did not look at him. "It was nothing, Your Grace. As you might be aware, I intend on becoming a member of the Night's Watch. One day or the next I will go."

He nodded. "But, per your lord-brother's wishes you will postpone joining the Night's Watch."

Still looking at anywhere but him, Stark murmured, "Yes." Rhaegar would have thought nothing of it, but, there is an edge to the word which Rhaegar suspected had little to do with him.

"Yes, I know."

"Was there anything else, Your Grace?" This one was always eager to be away from him, though Rhaegar had every reason not to question it.

"There is one thing. While I am grateful, so very grateful, you have done so, I must ask, why did you show me the crypts?"

The younger man flushes. "You were a guest. You wanted to see them, did you not?" Rhaegar does not think the words are spoken in anger. But, the boy does not want to answer the question at all. The other does not know Rhaegar that well if he thought he would leave such a thing alone. He quickly sobers knowing that what the other knows about him or his actions is less than favorable, with good reason.

"Yes, I was, but, why would you show me them?"

The younger man still does not look at him. "You were not going to ask, so I took you." That was not the most open of responses, but, it answered nothing.

Rhaegar pressed, "Even if I wanted to, you did not have to offer. If I did ask, you could have refused me with impunity. I did not deserve the honor your offer presented."

"Honor? Showing you had nothing to do with bestowing honor or deserving it, Your Grace. Please, just accept that I took you."

He frowned. "Why must I just accept it?"

This time Stark looks at him with a frustrated look he is become far too familiar with. "What does it matter why I let you do anything, even see where my family is buried? It will not make them any less dead no matter who sees them, even when the one who sees them is you."

He would have been stunned silent had the boy not said what he had. "It matters. Everything maters."

He gets a hysterical laugh in response. "Can you not take a gesture for what it is, just a gesture?"

"If it was just a gesture, then you would not fight answering me."

"Did you ever think it had nothing to do with you?" At his shocked expression, the Stark snorted, "You thought it did! I do not want to disabuse you of the notion, however, it had very little to do with you, though I do agree, it is something you should have seen."

There was no response he could give to this confused statement. "How do you mean?"

The thin face with stormy grey eyes look back at him. "Was it difficult being down there? Seeing them, dead. Knowing the role you played in it because you did not do as you should have?"

He almost stood up to go away from this boy and his cruel words, however, he knew he earned whatever scorn he was given and he saw the Stark was not done with him. "Try being the one who had the chance to prevent it all. I am the one who does not have the right to see them and so I avoided it. You gave me an excuse to go see them though it is me who does not deserve the honor. Is that what you wanted to hear, Your Grace?"

Bitterness he expected, and perhaps even welcomed, but, in his incomprehension, he blurted, "What do you mean? What was stopping you? Did your brother forbid it?"

Stilted laughter bubbled from the boy's throat. "Ned? You do not know him at all do you? He would never refuse me, but, I am the one who cannot go into the crypts. I am the one who does not deserve to see them."

Even when this was the second time the Stark said it, Rhaegar cannot grasp what he means. As if to answer his unvoiced question, the other says. "It is my fault they are there."

Of all things, this was not what Rhaegar ever expected to hear and never thought. Rhaegar frowns, a sinking feeling forming in his stomach. "If anyone is at fault it is me and my father. Lord Benjen, what have you done to think that way?"

A bark of a laugh follows and the other looks away again. "I know what you have done, but, you could say that I did not do enough. Well, no, I did not do enough. I knew what Lyanna was intending to do. At Harrenhall, I teased her when she cried when she heard you sing. Had I stayed with her and not been too busy being taken in by the sights and sounds she would have never become 'Knight of the Laughing Tree' and caught your attention. The year after, I learned what she was intending to do. If I said something, anything, none of this would have happened. Before she left with Brandon I should have said something. Father would have never let her leave if I had been brave enough to tell him. After we learned Brandon raced off to King's Landing chasing after you, I could have said something to Father; to anyone. I should have said something. Instead, I remained mute and they died because I did so."

Rhaegar feels bile rise in his throat even as he chokes out the words, "Nothing you could have done would have changed what happened. My father would not have had the chance to do anything to your father and brother had I acted like the prince I should have been and Lyanna would not have died had she not gotten with my child. None of that was your doing. It is my fault, not yours."

Perhaps, his voice and words are sharp, but, Rhaegar cannot help himself. "That was all my doing, Lord Benjen. I asked Lyanna to come with me. I told no one in King's Landing where we were going or that Lyanna came with me willingly. I left my father in King's Landing to do as he did. That is on my head and the blood that spilled is on my hands. It is not on yours."

A stray thought comes to him. He whispers, "Is this why you wanted to join the Night's Watch?."

The set of the boy's shoulders becomes stiff, however, it did not look as though he did so deliberately. "It is why I should."

"Then you are doing it for the wrong reasons and without purpose and should not do it at all. There is no reason to give up your future; to go without a wife and children; a life of your own for something that is not your doing. How many times must I say that you are not at fault? Tell me so that you do not throw your life away."

This time, Benjen Stark shakes his head. "I knew and did nothing. Father died to protect my family. Lyanna will never have a husband and it is your wife who my sister's son will call 'Mother'. Brandon had not the opportunity for a wife or a child. You want me to have a family? A life with a wife and children? What life do you think I could have had knowing this? Your Grace, I could not serve my family when it mattered. You can tell me it is not my fault all you wish but I cannot stay at Winterfell and I will not for more than my brother requires it of me. I cannot bear to be in the same place where they rest in death knowing my inaction put them there. Even when it was more your doing than mine, I will not do it. You Southrons see the Wall as punishment, but, for me it the only chance to reclaim my honor. It can only be the Wall for men like me."

Thinking about it now, Rhaegar remembers never wanting to shake a man out of his stupidity more, however, he refrained then and says nothing to Benjen Stark now. Stark will do what he wished and will join the Night's Watch one day or the next if that is what he wants. Who will tell him otherwise? A man of the North sees it as a duty to join the Night's Watch and it was not uncommon of a man who was born a third son. Rhaegar's words would mean little to Benjen Stark and that would have been true long before they even met.

Besides, what more could Rhaegar say to him? What could Rhaegar offer instead? He understands duty and he understands love of family. He understands why Benjen Stark intends to do as he will. Even with a grand purpose, even if Rhaegar was right this time, even though he was here for his family and their future, how could he say anything to Benjen Stark? Rhaegar is here in an old tower in the middle of the desolate North going to the Wall while he left that same family in King's Landing again. How could he accuse anyone else of madness after all he had done and when he was here?