290 AC

The gardens of the Red Keep were not the Water Gardens, but Elia made an effort with it, especially with help from her Reachmen ladies-in-waiting. Now, flowers bloomed beautifully, and lily pads and blossoms floated in the large, pool-like fountain she had installed in the center of the main sitting area. Elia felt sorry for the flowers for they were now trapped under the feet of the children living in the Red Keep. She sat under the trees with her ladies-in-waiting, watching the children out of the corner of her eye. Rhaenys, Daenerys, and Allyria splashed in the fountain, their happy shrieks filling the air. Jaehaerys, Robb, and Dickon played some game where they were meant to fight for the honor of saving Margaery from a dragon, which poor Samwell had the misfortune of portraying. All the while, little Arya toddled around, trying to steal Robb and Jae's attention. Aegon and Loras were fighting with sticks off to the side while Talla blushed and fawned over herself, watching the two.

It was a rare moment of real peace at the keep that Elia liked to enjoy. In these gardens, the world could melt away, and she could be content. King's Landing still held that veneer of grime and probably always would. People snickered and talked about her out of one side of their mouth, more so after she was embarrassed by her husband. Hearing Rhaenys' laughter, seeing Aegon's smile and hearing Jaehaerys call her 'Mother' calmed her heart and her mind from racing with thoughts left unvoiced. She was about to turn back to her ladies, the smile still on her face when it suddenly vanished. She was coming to her gardens, the ambitious whore, Queen Consort now.

Cersei Lannister waddled across the lawn, her belly big in front of her, eight moons into her pregnancy now. Rhaegar was escorting her, his arm around her back to support her as she somehow managed to look graceful even while unable to walk properly.

Elia felt the same anger she'd been feeling for the past year, if not longer. She could not tell how long her former lady-in-waiting had been sleeping with her husband, seducing him, whispering her poison in his ears. Rhaegar had announced months ago his plan to take Cersei as his second queen under the title of Queen Consort like Targaryens had done before him. He had the support of both maesters and septons alike and, of course, Tywin Lannister himself. Elia had been livid, but Rhaegar's mind was made. He needed Lannister gold, he said, but Elia thought it was his precious Visenya he was after most of all. The prophecy was still not fulfilled, but soon after the wedding, her traitorous lady fell pregnant. Twins from the size of her belly. Rhaegar's Visenya, and another child to spare.

Elia felt a hand curl into hers, dragging her attention from the couple as the children greeted their father, brother, and king. She turned to see Ashara staring at her imploringly.

"Ignore them," she mumbled so the other ladies couldn't hear.

Elia nodded discreetly, squeezing her friend's hand gratefully.

She did not know what she would do if Ashara hadn't come back to King's Landing to be with her. Her best friend was already on her way back to her when Rhaegar's coronation had occurred. She had arrived faster than Elia expected and with a daughter to boot, Allyria. She had Dornish coloring but her grey eyes and long face told the world who her father was. However, Allyria's name remained Sand and her sisters, Arya and baby twins Alysane and Alanna, bore the name Waters since Rhaegar refused any requests of Ashara and Ned to marry. He thought it would show weakness on his part to allow his hostage, a former rebel to the realm, the honor of marriage to one of the ladies-of-court, a woman deep in his wife's counsel. That hadn't stopped them, most everyone knew that they were consorting and unmarried in the eyes of the Seven, though Ned claimed they were married in the eyes of the Old Gods and needed no blessing from a High Septon of a religion he did not follow. Some tried to convince her to send Ashara and the children away from the castle, claiming it brought shame to Elia's reputation to have a lady with four bastards in her company, Cersei's being one of the loudest voices. That was all the more reason to do the exact opposite of what they wanted her to do. Elia knew it wasn't just because Ashara's supposed bastard brood assaulted Cersei's sensibilities that she wished her sent away, it was because Ashara was Elia's staunchest supporter. She would have her isolated and alone.

"How dare she come here, flaunting herself about. The harlot," Lysa said venomously beside her.

Elia repressed an eyeroll. She had no doubt her lady's anger wasn't mostly brought about because she wasn't the one who managed to steal Rhaegar. Lysa was still unmarried after Jon Arryn's death, though the queen was not ignorant of her attachment to Lord Baelish. It made her untrustworthy.

"Calm Lysa, let's play nice. We are ladies… unlike her," Melessa advised, her voice turning derisive towards the end as she sent a comforting smile towards Elia.

Melessa Florent was a nice, understanding woman with a large heart. A stark opposite to her husband, Randyll Tarly. Elia knew she could count on her secrecy and loyalty.

"Sex-crazed whore," Togaria Bar Emmon muttered under her breath with no small amount of jealousy in her voice.

Elia and Ashara shared an amused look between themselves. Togaria was the wildcard of Elia's ladies, her allegiance tending to flit to whoever could buy her. Bar Emmon was an old house pledged to Dragonstone but had fallen on harder times. Togaria had developed a taste for finer things in King's Landing. It made her unreliable but predictable. As long as Elia could provide for her and Varys kept a wealth of Togaria's secrets in his back pocket for a rainy day, she was not overly worried by her.

"Sex itself is not such a sinful thing," Alerie began.

"Oh, don't start, Lady Hightower," Darlyssa Marbrand complained.

Elia was as confident the Westerland woman was a spy of Cersei's as she was that Alerie was reporting all the happenings of the castle to Lady Olenna, but she allowed them to think she knew nothing.

"It's Lady Tyrell," Alerie corrected.

"Don't let Lady Olenna hear you claim that name," Darlyssa quipped back, twirling her reddish-blonde curls around her nimble fingers, but Alerie continued like she hadn't spoken.

"Sex can be quite a powerful tool. It can connect you to a person in a way that cannot be erased, and it can give you leverage over weak-minded men. And when it comes to sex, every man is weak-minded," Alerie said, a coy smile on her face as she flipped her braided light blonde hair over her shoulder.

She watched the interaction between Margaery and Cersei intensely. Elia wasn't sure if she was watching for fear of her daughter's safety or because she hoped the Queen Consort would take kindly to her daughter. Probably both.

"Did your mother teach you that? Or did Lady Olenna decide she needed something to keep her simpleton son's attention?" Petra Mallister asked.

She was the youngest of her ladies, and the girl had no filter. It hadn't gained her a husband so far, and it was going to get her in trouble one day, but she was loyal enough, if unreliable with delicate matters. Alerie threw the younger girl a glare for the comment, mentions of her tense relations with her goodmother finally getting to her.

Elia turned back to the tableau before her. Cersei was sneering at Rhaenys and Daenerys in the fountain. Probably bemoaning both the fact that they were splashing in their smallclothes and that they were playing with Allyria, a bastard. She watched the woman walk pass Jaehaerys without a glance as he hesitantly shuffled up to her to greet her. Rhaegar followed after her, his eyes on Aegon. Robb patted his cousin's back comfortingly, but she could tell his disappointment and heartbreak by the way his shoulders slumped in defeat. Elia felt sympathy and anger roiling inside her.

"Jaehaer— Jon!" She called after the boy.

Recently, the seven-year-old had decided that he wanted to be called Jon rather than Jaehaerys. Elia knew why so she didn't begrudge him his choice. He got so little of it even though he bore the name Targaryen. He was still considered a bastard by a large number of people despite Rhaegar's claim to have married Lyanna on the Isle of Faces, Elia's acceptance of him, and Ned vouching that he was not born of rape. Still, some did not recognize the marriage because it was shrouded in such secrecy, unlike his marriage to Cersei. The lioness hated Jaehaerys. If she had her way, he'd be named Sand, and any sons she had would be before him in the line of succession.

Jae turned around before running towards her. She could see that his eyes were shining with tears that he wouldn't let fall in present company. Elia stood up and held a hand to him, leading him away from this section of the garden. Her eyes caught Rhaegar's as she passed him. She sent a glare his way, and he looked away from her.

When they got to a place where the others couldn't hear, Jaehaerys stopped walking and let the tears fall down his face. Elia sighed and picked him up, placing him on her hip. He was always small for his age. Even so, she would not be able to carry him long, despite her health being better as of late.

"A good omen. The ceremony to Lady Cersei was most smiled upon by the gods. Even Queen Elia has benefited from it."

She had wanted to cuff the septon who said such an asinine statement.

She took Jae to a bench and sat down with him on her lap, rubbing her hand up and down his back.

"Shh, it'll be alright, little wolf," she said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I—I don't understand," he mumbled through his tears.

"Why do they hate me so?"

Elia sighed internally. She had known Rhaegar could not see Jae for himself since he was a babe. She hoped he would have gotten over it by now, but the more Jae grew, the more he looked like Lyanna, so the less Rhaegar seemed to be able to stand the sight of him. He was the embodiment of his failures. He failed to get the princess he wanted, he was unable to keep Lyanna, he almost destroyed the realm. Seven years later, the kingdoms weren't whole or without fractures.

Elia tried not to hesitate to answer. Rhaella would probably know how to answer this question. She was wise beyond her years, always with a piece of pertinent advice that she knew Elia needed. She had been gone since Daenerys was born. She had died happy. Her last few months were the best of her life. She'd even started sending ravens back and forth with her Bonifer before she died. The Queen Mother passed away with a smile on her face, clutching her daughter after extracting a promise from Elia to protect her children. Now Elia was stuck surrounded by panderers and sycophants, by dragons, lions, and liars. She had to protect the people who she called family.

"They don't hate you."

Jae gave her a look of disbelief at that.

"At least your father doesn't. He's just… hard to reach sometimes, especially to his family."

"He spends time with Rhae and Egg. Viserys says that it's because I killed my birth mother. That you only pretend to care about me, but when I reach majority, you'll stop pretending and send me away."

Elia restrained an eyeroll.

"Your first mistake is listening to anything Viserys says. Your second is not coming to me first. If you did, I would've told you that I am most certainly not pretending to care about you. I've never been one to put on airs with you or lie. The situation with your parents wasn't ideal for any of us involved, but I hope you know I've never blamed you for it. None of it was your fault. Lyanna died because she didn't have a midwife there to help her through it, not because of you."

"But Dany's mother died too, and she had a midwife and maesters with her."

Elia paused before taking Jaehaerys' face in her palm.

"Listen to me, sometimes things happen, and we can try all we might to stop it, but we can't always do anything to change how the outcomes. Your birth mother died, but one of the last things she got to do was bring you into the world, so I'm sure she didn't regret it," Elia said, brushing her fingers through Jaehaerys' curly hair.

"Rhaegar is still hurt by the loss, and Cersei is… well, she is a Lannister. She has quite narrow views. But even without them, you have your siblings and your cousins and your aunts and uncles—"

"And you?"

"Of course, sweetling. Is that even a question that needs asking," she assured, wiping his face clean and leaning forward to press another kiss to his forehead.

She was about to stand and return to the central gardens when the bushes nearby suddenly rustled. She stood up instantly, sliding Jae off her lap and pushing him behind her, her body on high alert for a possible threat, her fingers inching to the dagger she hid among the fabric of her dress.

"Mother?" Jae asked with confusion due to the sudden change in her countenance.

She relaxed as she saw Jaime come out from the trees, his white cape secured to his black and red armor.

"Ser Jaime!" Jae exclaimed excitedly, running off to greet the man happily.

"Hello, little prince. Are you defending the queen from ne'er-do-wells and ill-wishers?"

Jae nodded his head, a serious look on his face.

"Of course, Ser. I will protect Mother from the monsters."

"Monsters come in many forms. Remember that, lad. Besides that, I know you could make a fine knight one day. And I've got just the thing to help you along."

Jaime pulled out a small wooden sword from behind his back. Elia felt a smile touch her lips as Jae looked at it reverently. He had just started training a year prior but did not have his own practice sword just yet. Rhaegar gifted Rhaenys and Aegon with one when they began training. Ned fashioned ones for Robb and Allyria of his own hand. Even Randyll gave one to Samwell, who it was clear was more into his books than he would ever be a sword, but Rhaegar had not bequeathed one to Jae. He had ignored him, taking for granted that Elia would oversee his upbringing and maintenance on her own. Ned watched out for his nephew, and Jaime was also a huge help.

Jae looked back at Elia for permission, and she nodded her head. He took the wooden sword from the knight and held it aloft like it was made of gold.

"Thank you, Ser," he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude.

Elia walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go back so you can show everyone your new present, hmm?"

Jae nodded enthusiastically, running ahead of them to return to the others.

"Thank you, Ser Jaime. I was going to have one fashioned for him, but I think receiving one from you is all the better," Elia said as they began walking back, side-by-side.

"He's a good child. You've done a good job with him."

"As have you. I didn't teach him to hold a sword. Though, I'm sure Oberyn will have something to say about both his nephews and his niece wielding swords with no spear training whatsoever."

"I'm not much for spears… or poison."

Elia threw him a look, but Jaime just shrugged lightly in response. That incident had been years before, and though Oberyn had not returned to Dorne yet following Doran's banishment, he still visited King's Landing all the time and sometimes with his girls in tow.

"Speaking of brothers, how's yours?"

"Tyrion is well enough. Still as bright as ever and has more wit and intellect in his littlest finger than I do in my whole body. Our father doesn't see that though, all he sees is a dwarf who killed his mother in childbirth."

Elia's mood soured almost immediately.

"Yes, Tywin Lannister always did have very particular views, didn't he?"

That was the man who ordered her and her children killed. She would never forget, even if Rhaegar did. Jaime did not forget either. Elia turned as his hand brushed against hers.

"I'm sorry to bring him up. I wasn't thinking."

Elia smiled tremulously in return.

"There is no need for you to apologize. You have always been an attentive guard, Ser."

"I did get something for you too."

Elia looked at him curiously as he produced a perfume bottle from his pocket. She sniffed it briefly before smiling at the blonde man.

"Blood orange."

"A Myrish merchant stopped at Lannisport while I was there. He happened to have that at what I'm sure is triplicate the price in Dorne, but I thought you might like it."

"I do. Thank you," she said, gracing him with another smile as they made it back to where Jae was already showing Robb and Aegon his new toy.

Rhaegar was watching them wordlessly and looked up at Elia when she returned with Jaime. There was something in his eyes. It was always there in moments like these where the children seemed happy and Elia was smiling. She sometimes thought that Rhaegar felt left out in his own family, but then she would think of all he had done to make it that way for himself, and she would not feel bad. He had Cersei now. Soon he would have his precious Visenya, what did he have to feel bad about?

Except he would not.

Cersei's labor was long and hard. Her screams could be heard from across the keep. Elia tried to offer some assistance, but the woman did not want her there. Instead, Elia stayed with the children who were frightened at Cersei's pain despite how mean she was to them. Elia played hide and search with them, quizzed them on their studies, read books, and ate sweets until Rhae, Egg, and Dany had passed out on her bed. Jaehaerys stayed up, silently holding Elia's threads as she sewed a blanket to gift to the twins. No matter how she felt about their mother and father, the babes were innocent and didn't know the mess they were born into. Besides, it was expected of her.

"Is Cersei going to die like my mother did?" Jae asked her after a long, comfortable silence.

Elia paused with her needles and looked at the boy calculatingly. He looked innocently curious, but there was something else in his gaze that made her ask her next question.

"Would you like that, little wolf?"

He shook his head after a pause.

"No, I don't think so, but..."

Elia nodded encouragingly.

"Would it make you happier if she did?"

Elia cocked her head inquisitively.

"People wouldn't whisper about you anymore, wouldn't make fun of you because of her, and usually, if Father's happy, you're sad. Maybe if he's sad instead, then you'll be happy."

Elia looked down, not quite sure how to answer that. Jaehaerys was the most perceptive of her children. Rhaenys and Aegon were her children by birth, but their lives were already all but mapped out for them. Little by little, they were being taken from her and belonging more to the realm, to the people, to the Targaryen dynasty. Jae had no aspirations on him and virtually no other parent, so he was more attached to her side. He could read her as easily as her brothers could. His intuition was a skill that Elia's mother would say she should hone and tend to for her benefit later on in life. Maybe when he was older.

"No sweetling, I do not want Cersei to die. And your father's sadness does not make me happy."

"What does make you happy then?"

"Them, of course," she answered immediately, gesturing to the three children asleep.

"And you."

Jae nodded with satisfaction after a moment, and they went back to silence.

Once Jae was asleep, Elia ventured towards the corridor where Cersei was. When she visited before, Rhaegar was pacing outside the door with Jaime standing stoically nearby while Viserys sat on a bench, trying to distract his brother from his worry. It must've been déjà vu for Rhaegar. This was the third woman who was birthing his children, who he was waiting on to see if she would give life to his prophecy or give him more disappointment.

Elia should've been more concerned about the almost vicious delight she felt at learning that Cersei had birthed twin boys, Aerion and Daeron. Maybe Jae had been a little right in his estimation that Rhaegar's failures resulted in Elia's happiness, but what was the point of examining all the times she felt joy at her husband's shortcomings?

Rhaegar shut himself away like a sulking child for a time after the twins were born, but Elia's delight was short-lived because soon after, the nightmares came back. Every night in her dreams, she would see countless men and women burning in the throne room while Aerys watched in sick fascination. She would hear Rhaella's screams, those born of her rape at her husband's hands and the haunting wails during her last time on the birthing bed. She would see Aerys standing in her doorway, his long, gnarled fingernails like claws beside him as he stared Elia down with equal parts loathing and arousal. She would feel the horror and fear as she watched Amory Lorch grab her children's faces, and Gregor Clegane stand over her, his hard cock already free from his breeches, a manic look on his face.

In her dreams, Jaime doesn't save her. She can feel Clegane force himself inside her. She can hear Rhaenys' screams and Aegon's cries. She can see the moment that Lorch plunges his blade into her daughter's chest over and over again until her screams fade to nothing. She can see Clegane crush her son's head until it pops like a melon. She can feel when his fingers dig into her eyes, and the pressure in her head builds and builds until there is suddenly nothing but darkness.

Her eyes popped open, flying around her dark bedroom wildly until there was a tug on her hand. She looked over to see Jae standing by her bedside, a look of wide-eyed concern on his face.

"Jon? What's wrong? It's late."

"I heard you screaming," he explained.

His room was closer to hers than Egg or Rhae's. Rhaegar's choice.

"I had a bad dream. There is no need to worry," she explained, rubbing a hand over her face.

He stared at her contemplatively before climbing into her bed.

She felt amusement tug at her as she noticed he had his wooden sword in hand.

"I will protect you from the monsters, Mother," he proclaimed.

A smile tugged at her lips.

"I shall truly know peace with a knight as true as you to protect me, Ser Jon," she replied, laying down in bed with her son curled into her side.

She managed some sleep with Jae there, if fitfully, but the images stayed seared to her eyelids and on her mind the whole day.

Her ladies noticed her disquiet but put it down to Cersei and imbued her with empty words about her place not being usurped. All they really did was ply her with more worry than anything else, pointing out things she hadn't thought of before. Cersei had two heirs. If something should happen to Aegon and the Queen Consort managed to convince Rhaegar to disinherit Jaehaerys, her son would be on the throne. She would be Queen Mother. She would suddenly have the power.

Those worries followed Elia as much as the dreams did to bed the next night, and she found the nightmare reoccurring, but not just the War of the Usurper ending horribly for her, she could see in her mind Cersei killing Aegon, her little boy's body too still and angelic. She could see Jaehaerys banished to the wintry wasteland of the Wall to live out his days in exile. She could see Rhaenys forced to marry some old man like Walder Frey and shuffled off to live a life of sadness while Elia was helpless to do anything.

She found herself being shaken awake once more, but this time it was Jaime hovering over her.

"Ser Jaime, what are you…" Elia trailed off, her voice breaking a little as her throat felt rubbed raw.

"Prince Jaehaerys asked me to guard your door tonight. He was worried. He wanted you safe from the monsters, he said. I don't know how much help I'll be from the ones that plague you."

Elia settled back into the bed, her eyes staring at the ceiling above her.

"I didn't know you still had the dreams," Jaime said after a long silence.

"I'll never forget. They sometimes fade, recede to the very edges of my mind, then they come back."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Elia asked with bemusement.

"I did not save you, not completely."

"At that point, Ser, it was already too late."

Another long silence stretched between them before Jaime went to leave the room. Elia grabbed his arm, stopping him.

"Don't. Don't leave," she said in a low tone.

Jaime paused, his body stiffening.

"The king is here."

"He's still off sulking about the birth of his male heirs. Stay with me, please," she replied.

Jaime's body loosened before he sat back down on the edge of the bed. Elia sat up, her dark hair falling into her face in loose waves, and pulled Jaime towards her, pressing her lips to his.

This was not the first time they had done this, nor the second or even fifth or sixth. She could not say precisely when it began. It didn't start until after whatever he had going on with Cersei ended. Elia never pried, but she noticed that their countenance and arguments spoke more to lovers than siblings in the beginning. She supposed it ended when Cersei began pursuing Rhaegar. How ironic then that her twin should fall into the queen's bed while she fell into the king's.

Elia's relationship with Jaime was not one born of lust for power or even carnal need, but due to comfort and understanding. They survived the last few years of Aerys' reign together. They were among those left behind by Rhaegar. Jaime was in that room at Maegor's Holdfast and saw what almost happened to her and the children. Jaime knew about the nightmares, fears, and doubts that plagued her because he cared enough to ask. She wouldn't say it was love, not in the romantic sense, at least. Elia would never be so quick to relinquish herself to that emotion again after Rhaegar tore her heart apart. What she had with the knight was comfortable, a friendship that offered pleasurable benefits, and he cared for her children. Jaime didn't just protect them but befriended them. He made Elia feel lighter, so she never felt guilty about her actions.

Rhaegar was the last person she had to feel bad about being unfaithful to.

Weeks passed before Rhaegar stopped throwing a tantrum over having male children rather than his Visenya. Cersei emerged from the birthing bed glowing golden even more than before. She and Rhaegar allowed the children to meet the babes, even though Jae and Ashara's girls were not allowed to hold them as per Cersei's demands. Elia was sitting in a corner observing four of Rhaegar's kingsguards. Addam Marbrand, Aurane Velaryon, Caspian Celtigar, and Adrian Redfort secured the four corners of the room with serious looks on their faces. She wondered what trouble they thought he could run into during a visit with children but left them to it as Ashara, Melessa, and Petra approached her with varying levels of misery on their faces.

"What's all this?" Elia asked with amusement.

Ashara looked at her like she had grown a second head.

"What do you mean? Our moonblood," Petra said, unusually discreet.

"We usually all get it at the same time, but yours starts before us. Have you not gotten it?" Melessa asked.

It hadn't occurred to Elia until then that she hadn't had her moonblood. That was not so unusual. She could be irregular at times. It didn't come that week or the one after or the one after that. As she began to vomit into her chamber pot in the mornings and her breasts grew sore, she knew she must face facts.

She was pregnant.

That put her at a loss because it was supposed to be impossible. Birthing Rhae almost completely drained her and birthing Egg all but killed her, she wasn't meant to be able to become pregnant again. Yes, it had been eight years since she had Egg, and she supposed that her health had been on an upswing as of late, but it was still presumed impossible by the maesters. And what was she to do with the child? She hadn't laid with Rhaegar in years. He would realize if she had the child that he was not the father. Could she bring herself to rid her body of the child? That came with its own risks and could kill her, but having the child could kill her as well.

That night she had a dream of a little girl. A little girl who looked almost just like Elia: Dornish coloring like Rhae's. However, rather than having Rhaegar's purple eyes like her sister, the girl had Elia's black orbs. Elia could hear the girl's name whispered in her head in Rhaegar's voice, Visenya.

Even in her sleep, she felt satisfied that this girl, who was not Rhaegar's, was looked upon by him as if she were his saving grace. She wondered what his face would reflect if he knew the truth.

In her waking hours, she was filled with turmoil. She felt several things at wanting to have the child as a form of revenge against Rhaegar: shame, guilt, longing, want. Her dreams had brought these feelings on before, feelings she had no way to fight in her sleep. She had dreamt of Rhaegar dead many times. She used to dream of Lyanna dead too, but the older Jaehaerys grew, the more like Lyanna he looked, so those dreams turned to nightmares. Rhaegar deceased had been a common feature and a saving grace from the horrors of Maegor's Holdfast and Aerys. In reality, she could not say how she would react if Rhaegar died. She didn't know that she could allow him to love a child that wasn't his without his knowledge that it wasn't. At least he had given her as much truth as she dared ask for when it came to Jae's conception.

She found herself standing outside his bedroom door soon after. She had not been there in some time. It felt like years, but it was probably months, and never without the children anymore. She felt hesitant to knock on his door, but the choice was taken from her as it suddenly swung open, and she was face to face with Cersei and Rhaegar.

"Elia," Rhaegar said with surprise.

"Your Grace. I wished to speak with you," she said, her eyes flickering to Cersei, whose face was red with anger.

"I was taking my leave anyway," she said, walking past Elia, her shoulder knocking into hers as she went.

Elia's eyes followed her before turning to Rhaegar, who still stared at her with surprise.

"What did you do to manage that? You two seem like such a happy couple," Elia said, sarcasm heavy in her voice.

"We just… had a disagreement about some things," Rhaegar replied, opening the door to allow her entry.

Elia walked into the room, her eyes casting around to look for changes. He changed the curtains on the window, and his desk was new. She liked this one better.

"Things?"

"I… I told her about the prophecy. It was not what she wanted to hear after providing me with two male heirs."

Elia huffed a breath of amusement.

"After laboring for nigh on two days, I should think not."

"This prophecy, it's the most important thing in my life," Rhaegar said, his eyes slightly glassy as he stared into space.

Elia knew the look for what it was. It wasn't one of madness, at least not the kind that afflicted Aerys. It was the look of dreamers, of people who had little concept of reality. What did he even know about any of his family beyond how they fit and worked into his prophecy? Still, to hear him admit what she already knew stung, even after all this time. Rhaegar seemed to realize this as he came back to himself. A look of regret passed his face.

"I didn't mean—"

"You meant exactly what you said. You just didn't expect to say it. In truth, I didn't expect you to admit it either. Do try to make sure none of the children hear you say that. I fear it would break their little hearts, though I'm sure Jon at least is already used to it from you," she said simply.

"Jaehaerys, his name is not Jon."

"He'd beg to differ, so would Lyanna if you remember her anymore. Strange, isn't it? All this time, everyone that's been lost, and it's never enough. It still somehow comes back to you and this prophecy. I should've burned the book and your grandfather's mad ramblings about it when I had the chance. I should've burned it when I burned your harp all those years ago."

"That's where it went, the harp my mother gave me, you burnt it?" Rhaegar asked with shocked hurt.

He was always startled when Elia was ever anything but silently suffering.

"Of course I did. You ran off. You left it behind, the harp your mother gave you, so what did you truly care for it or her for that matter? You left her alone with Aerys, the same as you left the children and me. Now you've left Jon, or you were never present for him, I can't tell which anymore. I'm left to pick up the pieces every time you break him. He may not share my blood, but Jon is truly my son, a boy after my own heart. He keeps hoping that you'll change your mind one day. That you'll love him and see him the way you do Egg and Rhae, but he can't know that your reasons go so far beyond Lyanna's death. It's your bloody prophecy, your precious Visenya. You pay attention to nothing save your poems and books."

Rhaegar continued staring at her. What was the point of this? Why was Elia even there? What courtesy did she owe him? He never showed any to her. He just showed up after a war with a child he placed in her arms and was having her raise almost by herself. Perhaps she should do the same to him, birth the child and let the chips fall where they may.

She moved to walk towards the door. As she passed him, Rhaegar grabbed her arm and stopped her from leaving.

"Wait."

"Why?"

"You… you wanted to talk to me."

"I did. I've changed my mind."

"Elia…" he trailed off, shaking his head with a humorless laugh.

"I haven't seen you alone in my chambers in, what, eight years? Nine? This used to be ours alone. I… sometimes I do wish that I'd never found those books, that I never investigated it, that we never went to that tourney, that we could go back to how we were before. I know you said I would no longer have a wife in you, but we were friends once, not just lovers. We were good together, weren't we," he asked as if he were desperate for affirmation.

Memories of them long past flooded Elia's head. She hated to admit it, but she still had that weakness for Rhaegar that she saw in Jaehaerys because she could not help but soften, even if only minutely.

"Once. It feels like a lifetime ago."

"How did we…?"

"That's something you should look into the mirror and ask yourself."

"… I miss you."

Elia scoffed in response.

"I do, it's true. I… I'm not the same without you by my side, in my ear. Nothing's the same."

Rhaegar sounded like a child. There was always a childlike quality to him. Inside, he was a little boy who wanted to run away from the world, his harp his only companion. A boy who still had barely any idea how to deal with his emotions and adversity. She supposed that was down to Aerys and even Rhaella, but Elia was not Rhaegar's mother. She had children of her own to raise.

"You've got Cersei now, you're not alone."

"She's not you. Elia…"

His lips against hers was a surprise. She pushed him away at first, and he didn't fight her, but something stirred in her. It was something decrepit and long thought dead, but it was enough to spur her to go back to him.

When he took her that night, it wasn't like Jaime. Jaime took her apart slowly and thoroughly, a piece at a time, with care and time they didn't have. That was a part of the thrill of it, knowing that any moment they could be caught only made them want to go slower, prolong the tension. That night with Rhaegar was not even like how they were in the beginning, inexperienced fumbling in the dark and laughter over their ineptitudes. This was fast and hard and hot and entirely pleasurable. Her world shrunk down to the press of bodies, the bunching of sheets, his mouth and his hands touching, stroking and sucking, her nails digging into his skin until she was shaking underneath him and demanding more.

They lasted a few weeks that way. More than not, they just had sex. Any conversation they tried to have was filled with stunted words and barbed sentences, so they did not speak much even though there was a gulf of issues they should address.

Soon every time she went to his chambers, Cersei was there with her twins. Elia refused to actively share her husband's bed with another woman, so they drifted again. When she finally went to a maester to have her pregnancy confirmed, she was sure to make sure he did not relay to the king how far along she was.

Everyone was surprised by the news, none more so than Rhaegar himself. The children were delighted, Cersei was livid, her brothers and Ashara were worried, Jaime was terrified, but Elia was serene. The pregnancy did not drain her the way the others did, did not force her abed as often. If she was confined, Rhae, Egg, and Jae spent as much time in her room with her as possible, never allowing her to lift a finger.

When she did give birth, it was a long and bloody affair. More than once, she thought it would be the end of her. By the end of the ordeal, she held her daughter in her arms, her coal-black eyes staring up at her under tufts of dark hair.

Rhaegar named her Visenya with tears in his eyes and something that looked suspiciously like love when he gazed at Elia. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. What must her husband be thinking as he stared down at her holding what he thought was the daughter he longed for? After Lyanna Stark, after Cersei Lannister, here the girl was. Rhaegar's Visenya. Lannister cheekbones and all.