Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

The Almost Queen

Chapter 8

What was this legend of the lovely maid who had descended to the hearth of the seventh hell, the lowest of all, to look for her lost love? Or was it the heart of the ocean? Rhaenys was sure that she had heard it from the old fishermen at Dragonstone when she had been able to escape to their village and sit at their fires. But she could not remember the details. There was this iron door that would not unlock, the river that threatened to swallow her, the thorn-bushes that almost took her hair off… Nature had done her worst to raise a wall between the maid and her heart's desire.

Stench was not mentioned anywhere but at the time she reached the small pokey house in Flea Bottom, Rhaenys was sure that this had been a pitiful omission. Or perhaps the legend had been said and written before her great-grandfather had built King's Landing? No one could have imagined a stench worse than this. A true element of nature.

The first thing the old woman did upon ushering Rhaenys and her maidservant in was offer them some water. Rhaenys splashed her face and started taking deep breaths through the tiny window opening towards a small, clean-smelling garden.

"Better now, m'lady?" the woman asked through the few teeth she still had in her mouth. Her voice was professional, she was used to her visitors reaching her house almost sick by the smell.

"Yes," Rhaenys said, keeping her head bowed low, although it was hardly likely for anyone here to recognize her. "I hope there aren't any other people in the house?"

"My old man is here, but he knows to stay in our room," the wise-woman replied. Rhaenys had not expected any other answer – she had paid handsomely to this effect. "Sit down, m'lady, and tell me what brings you here."

Rhaenys gingerly sat down. The chair looked steady enough but she did not know what people had come here today and how healthy they were. "A few years ago, I gave birth to my youngest daughter," she said. "I want to conceive a son, yet I cannot conceive at all now…"

The tallow candle threw yellow lights across the woman's face, making the shadowed parts look like dark bruises. "Have you had your moon blood regularly?"

"Yes, I have."

The wise-woman nodded. "Lie down, then, m'lady."

Rhaenys did and ground her teeth to suffer this touching and probing of her belly, big hard hands squashing and digging into her flesh, and she clenched her lips to keep her dinner in. She felt violated, tainted, although she had come here with the full knowledge of what was about to take place and the hands, the woman herself, the very room were very clear, just shabby.

"I can't see any reason for you not to birth yet another," the wisewoman finally declared. "Perhaps you're a bit pale, your blood a little weakened but all this should not be an obstacle if you truly wish it."

Was this a hint that Rhaenys did not truly want to have another child? Laughter bubbled in her as the worry that she might have been recognized was left to rest. If this woman had any idea who Rhaenys was, she'd know that Rhaenys would go to hell and back for this child…

"I'll give you something to drink every night before going to bed, my lady. It would be better if I rub your belly with an ointment but I know you won't agree."

Rhaenys wondered if her feelings were so blatantly obvious. She glanced a the woman's big, strong hands and shivered. "Later. I'll try with the drink first. If it doesn't help…"

As she rose, one of the candles flickered and died. Shadows danced against the walls and when the wise-woman went to light another candle, the tiny flame brought Rhaenys' eye to a flickering. A twinkle. A sapphire ring that she recognized – she had seen it on young Alyssa Arryn's hand just yesterday…

"Where did you take this from?" she asked casually but the woman stiffened.

"I didn't steal it, my lady," she said. "It was given to me by another guest."

Rhaenys slowly nodded. Another guest. Yes.

She put some money on the table and something in her face made the wise-woman not argue the price. Rhaenys' money was more than enough anyway. She put the ring on her own finger, glad that she was the one who had first seen and recognized it – at least she hoped she was the first! Aemma was her ally but the Dowager Lady Arryn and her daughter, Aemma's half-sister, held quite influence in the Vale and even at court in their own right. She did not want any rumours attached to Alyssa Arryn and certainly none that she could not control. What things she had to concern herself with when all she wanted was to focus on getting with child!

What had Alyssa done anyway? Morbid curiosity plagued her. The girl was just fourteen. But she could not ask Aemma. Aemma would never say. With these questions temporarily helping her keep the revulsion from the house and the hands away, she was back to the Red Keep before she knew it.

"Mama!" the girls squealed when she entered the nursery and she had to remind herself that she had just washed herself thoroughly. She would not taint them.

What wouldn't she do for this son for herself and the realm! Once again, the old resentment grew with strength that startled her: if she had not been displaced, it would not have mattered. Her daughters would have been her successors. And both she and Viserys would not lose each other constantly, swallowed in duties that did not come naturally to any of them when each had been prepared for the opposite.

"Did you have to tell Lord Blackwood that you'd take his side against Lord Bracken without hearing out both sides?" she asked wearily when they entered her bedchamber after the feast. "And why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew how you'd react," Viserys replied. "He was too insistent. Are you pleased now? He wearied me down. And his arguments… seemed right at the time."

Rhaenys bit back her irritation. His inability to say no was grating on her nerves. There was no way that he'd be able to please everyone and taking the side of the one who had managed to see him first was no way to do. Not for a future king anyway. Sadness washed over her as she realized that the trait that she had come to love about him – his wish to keep people happy – was turning into the greatest obstacle on their way.

As per their custom, Viserys came behind her and started taking the combs out of her hair. His hands were uncharacteristically cold and unpleasant to the touch, reminding her of the wise-woman's palms, his fingers clumsy. He did not lie down next to her but left as soon as she was settled in bed; with rising despair, she remembered the days after each of their children's births, when he had come to her bed to just sleep next to her. Now, their sharing the same space at night had started turning more and more into a duty and happened on purpose. With their grandmother's death and their grandfather's descent into senility, they were growing more and more apart. Rhaenys sighed and took some letters to read in bed. She would have to invite the governors of two of her grandmother's charities back because just yesterday, she had been so sharp with their long-winded words that she had made them stutter and forget what they had to say, rendering the entire mission needless. Viserys would have fared better, even with just listening to what they had to say and not how they said it, so strong was his desire to always be kind. Warmth stole in her hearth and she looked at the door with hope but he did not come back.

Very well, she would give him some time to get over their last altercation and then, she would go to him. In preparation, she rose from bed and pulled a robe on before returning to her parchments.

When she left her chambers, the moon was high in the sky, pale and full – she could see it between the columns of the open gallery joining her chambers to Viserys'. The guards stationed at the entrance removed themselves and as Rhaenys' entered, she heard a hound's howl from the general direction of the stables. It sounds like a wolf's, she thought and a shudder ran through her. The feeling only increased when in Viserys' bedchamber, she did not find anyone. His study was also dark. Was he with another woman? Jealousy burned all the way through her core even before the poisonous thought rushed to her mind: could he be with this young but far from stupid Alicent Hightower? The girl was so very good at telling Rhaenys' grandfather what he wanted to hear; how long would it take her to make herself preferable company to Viserys' shrew of a wife?

She did not want to wait for him in his bedchamber, she'd never humble her pride like this. But as she crossed back the gallery, the unusual movement of men and women down in the courtyard made her look longer. And then, her eyes automatically went up to the sole chamber being brightly lit. Aemma's. Against the curtain, silhouettes rushed and leaned, and rose in a flurry of activity. Frowning, Rhaenys headed over to investigate and she would have, had the Arryn guards not stopped her at the entrance. "Who do you think you are?" Rhaenys asked in disbelief. "Do you know in whose castle you are?"

They did not care. The would-be-queen was forced to stay there and argue until a gasp from behind made her turn. Lady Verena, Aemma's stepmother, was staring at her aghast.

"What's going on?" Rhaenys demanded. "Why am I being forbidden from entering? What are they doing there?"

Her relief was immense because in the beginning, she had thought that it was Daemon doing… something to Aemma.

Lady Verena considered, then nodded at the men and they parted for both of them.

"She's losing her babe," the dowager said in a voice that was lower than whisper.

"Who?" Rhaenys asked. "Alyssa?" She felt sick. The girl was fourteen!

Alyssa Arryn's mother shook her head and Rhaenys' heart skipped a beat. "What?"

Aemma was lying in her bed as pale as the moon, her eyes closed. "Light hurts my eyes but they want to be able to see," she said faintly. Rhaenys noticed the wide shallow pot that had been placed under her cousin's hips, to collect the blood, no doubt.

"So, it was you," she breathed. Aemma had been the one who had been the client of the wise-woman before her. Alyssa had probably just added her ring to the payment, having been unwise enough to wear it in clear sight, so the woman had seen and desired it. "Why? Why, Aemma? I know you didn't want to have a babe just yet but…"

"Don't question her now," Alyssa said sharply from her place at her sister's bedside. "She's too weak."

"I'm not," Aemma whispered and a tear ran down her cheek. "It's true, I didn't want a babe… but I wanted it, once I knew about it."

"What then?" Rhaenys asked. She truly did not understand.

"I'd been taking moon tea all the time, Rhaenys!" Aemma exclaimed and almost rose to her elbow in her agitation. Lady Verena hurried to push her back. The movements had stirred the pot and Rhaenys could hear the splashing and sloshing inside. Blood. The memory of the blood pouring down her legs before the Iron Throne, so many years ago, overcame her, the pain licking at her thighs again with strength undiminished by time.

Aemma went on, unsuspecting, "There is a great chance that my babe will be… unhealthy. I couldn't take the risk."

Tears were now burning trails into her ashen cheeks.

"Oh." Rhaenys said. "Oh!"

"If Daemon gets to know, he's going to kill me," Aemma breathed. "He's been reluctant to act on his suspicions that I take moon tea but if he hears that I've killed his babe, he will…" She paused. "He wants a son so much," she finally said and her voice shook. "And I think… I think I wanted this, too."

Silently, Rhaenys took her hand and sat next to the bed, staying there until two of the women who had been brought from outside of Aemma's chambers came close, their face white with dread, and moved Aemma so they could tug out the pot from under her. Although Rhaenys was quick to look away, she heard the sloshing, much quieter than before, and as understanding came to her what this meant – that the pot was way too full, - she looked at Aemma. White as parchment, her cousin had closed her eyes and seemed to not be breathing but in the short period between one woman going away from the bed and another one coming with a new pot, Rhaenys saw the pool that poured out from between Aemma's legs. In the candlelight, it looked as black as death. Lady Verena quickly stopped Aemma from looking down.

This night of worry passed so agonizingly slowly. Only when dawn was near did the bleeding lessen and Aemma went to sleep that was ta true sleep and not falling into unconsciousness. Rhaenys rose to leave.

At the door, Lady Verena stopped her. "Just in case you're interested," she said quickly, "in a few weeks Ser Otto Hightower will be dismissed. As soon as Prince Baelon returns…"

Rhaenys realized that she was not the only one who knew of other people's visits to wise-women. But her anger rose nonetheless because it was like a slap to her face, to be told that others knew about her fears. And this from a woman who had only managed to carry one living child! Still, curiosity almost overtook her. How had this woman, a scion of a lesser House, secretly despised for her failures in providing an heir, a widow, not even the mother of the Lady of the Vale, a woman who only visited court every few years, have this many connections? By nourishing them, of course. Rhaenys, ever impatient and not always careful enough with her words, could never do it. The life of a consort did not suit her. She had long been taught only to be queen. But there was something in Lady Verena's ways, and also Viserys' way to win people over. Something appealing and a little sad, and admirable. Something that was just out of her reach.

To her surprise, she found her lord husband in her own bed. At her entrance, he stirred and opened his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Rhaenys said.

"I wasn't sleeping anyway." His voice was hoarse, soaked in weariness.

"Why not?" she asked and then remembered that she was angry with him. "Where have you been?" she asked and cringed. She had done it again. Demanding, instead of asking. Plaguing him with her disapproval and muttering. But this time, he did not seem to notice it.

"Rhaenys, I was just strolling in the yards, that's all. I wasn't… somewhere else."

She blushed but did not say a thing.

"I was just walking until the raven arrived. With this."

He gave her the note with a hand that was barely shaking. Rhaenys' eyes ran over the lines and went wide. The letter bore the seal of Dragonstone and the words just leaped out of the lines. A hunt… a stitch… a burst belly…

So the hour has come, Rhaenys thought, her first thought about the two of them. Now, Viserys is the king-in-waiting and I, the Queen who has not given him a son. But then, she looked at Viserys and the blank look in his eyes made her ache inside. She quickly let the robe slip from her shoulders, climbed in bed, and drew him close, feeling, rather than hearing, his sigh as he buried his face in her hair, and in this moment, just for a while in this darkest hour of night that preceded the unfurling of dawn, away from all prying eyes, all expectations and disappointments they had of each other, they were no longer prince and princess. Just him and her.