Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you are awesome and you all get a virtual cookie each (not made by me since I would not do this to you).

Lady of Dorne

Knives and Cradles

In the week following that first exchange everything looked cordial to the untrained eye: Alric and his retinue attended the lavish feasts Rhaegar gave each night, were attentive to Rhaella, exchanged pleasantries with the members if the Small Council, flirted with noble ladies, and even treated Lyanna with polite indifference. Even more amazing, they did not cause conflicts with the people from the Reach, although they never left one unresolved if such arose. But that was just good manners and behind closed doors, tempers flared and while downright insults had yet to be exchanged, mutual suspicions grew by each day; both sides' intransigence gave edge to each and every conversation.

In the ninth day since the beginning, mid-afternoon saw an unexpected visitor to Alric's lodgings. Sure, Elia knew that her father had left the Red Keep immediately after the midday feast but she had decided she'd wait for him no matter how long. And well, it turned out to be quite long. She had already walked the distance from King's Landing to Dorne, surely, when she heard the door opening and turned around, ready to start talking, but the words died in her throat when she saw it wasn't her father coming in.

"Where is Rhaenys?" Rhaegar asked, as if they were just continuing a conversation they had ended just a few moments ago, as if it was fully expected of him to burst into Alric's rooms to talk to his wife when the truth was, he now rarely entered her chambers without being announced – despite her best efforts, Elia had been unable to play along with his pretences that their relationship had not changed at all, so at the end, he had stopped trying.

She raised an eyebrow. "Why, my lord father has taken her outside."

Rhaegar shrank her with a look. "Without permission," he retaliated. "Who does he think he is?"

"He had permission," Elia said. "Mine," she elaborated. "As to who he is, he's my father and you'd better not forget it." Her voice turned cold. "Given her experience with her other grandfather, I cannot blame you for being cautious but your mistrust is quite misplaced. Rhaenys is perfectly safe with him."

Rhaegar blushed and looked aside, suddenly realizing how stupid he ought to look in her eyes. For all his dislike of Rhaegar that he didn't even bother to hide, Alric would never harm Elia, and Rhaenys was part of Elia, too. Besides, his goodfather wanted Rhaenys to inherit Dorne. He had all the incentives in the world to keep her safe and not one to harm her. The very fact that Rhaegar had thought he might – seven hells, he still didn't feel comfortable knowing that she was with Alric – showed just how badly things with Dorne were festering.

"He hates me, doesn't he?"

Elia sank on the nearest coffer, as if she couldn't be bothered to go to the chair. "Why would you think so?"

"I can see it in his eyes."

She sighed. "Very well, he isn't too fond of you," she admitted as he, too, took a seat.

Looking at him, she saw him fighting to bite back the retort that it was quite disingenuous of Alric's to make so much out of what he perceived as Rhaegar's straying given his own marital past, and she grinded her teeth, so she would not spat that his escapades had nothing to do with her father's dislike. There were things like humiliation and political complications… but he would never take them into account, not while he was still so engrossed in achieving his prophecy. Elia would never forgive him for that. Really, he wanted to bring the storm all over the world, just so his heads of the dragons could be the heroes? Elia just wanted to see them grow up. Prepare them the best way she could about their lives and responsibilities. She wanted to become a grandmother one day, for the Mother's sake! But such mundane concerns could barely touch the mind of the man who lived for the prophecy and believed its fulfillment would solve everything else.

Once, she had tried to be understanding. But his actions born out of prophetical-lusty feelings had depleted her empathy quite thoroughly. Now, she would never tell him just how disastrous his actions had been for her own family on her father's side. She felt that talking about it would demean her dead, for he had never thought to ask of all the lives lost except for those he had been made aware of. She would not ask for his regret. There were enough of those who mourned them.

"Why are you so obstinate?" she asked all of a sudden. "You don't even want me. Many of your lords are set against your Dornish queen anyway. They'll be only too glad to see my back. And you cannot have Dorne."

"Can't I?" he asked, very softly. "For real?"

All of a sudden, Elia smiled at the absurdity of it all. "You can try," she said, quite indifferently. "We both know how wars between Dorne and the Seven Kingdoms end, don't we?" Her smile grew, for it was really amusing. "I didn't think you wanted to be king of the Six Kingdoms."

He sighed. "It's all talk. Oberyn loves you too well to ever infringe upon what's yours."

"That's right," Elia agreed. "But then, you don't really mean for it to become mine, don't you? My brother knows that. All of Dorne does."

She made it sound like he wanted to rob her. He hadn't known that she even had this biting wit about her – by temper, she was not sarcastic. It felt strange that he was getting to know a new side of her just when they were going on their separate ways.

The cold afternoon light bathed her in grey. Rhaegar looked at her – and he was stunned by the change that had crashed upon her all of a sudden. Or maybe it had been encroaching on her slowly for years – the years they had spent not looking at each other. Avoiding looking at each other. Her features were still beautiful and finely chiseled but they had lost the softness that had once appealed to him so. She still looked serene but he could see it was a mask while once, it had not been so. Not with him. There had been a time when she had been genuinely happy to see him, had delighted in his company. The trials she had gone through had turned her into a prematurely aged woman who was always on the alert, waiting for the new strike to fall. He looked aside, shame and guilt rising.

"Has it not occurred to you," he asked softly, "that I might not want to let you go?"

Elia gave him an astonished look. All this time, she had taken it for granted that he wanted to be rid of her as much as she wanted to be rid of him. Dear gods, is it possible that he's been hoping we could regain what we once had? For Elia, it had been over since the moment he took off with the little Northern girl so publicly while she could still not even visit the latrine on her own after giving him an heir. She had never stopped to think that he might have thought he might salvage something. That he had thought he could have it all – passion with his new wife and the companionship he had once enjoyed with Elia. Once again, she realized that he did not know her at all – and never had. She was a woman who was always ready to give someone a new chance, even him, and she had. He had clearly forgotten how hard he had worked to gain her forgiveness after Harrenhall. After his elopement with the Stark girl, there could be no forgiveness even if she tried – which she did.

Her affection for him was dead and buried, yet now she felt a sense of loss and sadness for what once had been. That had not been either the life she had chosen for herself, or the husband she would have chosen given the chance but for a while, she had believed it might work.

"No," she said. "It has never occurred to me."

"Do you hate me so much?"

Elia shook her head. She felt nothing about him, not even derision. He was just a stranger who had no place in her life and she wanted none in his. She didn't tell him that, though. Her best chance to achieve her freedom was to make him believe she'd be more amenable than Oberyn. Indeed, she would, because that was just how she was. The problem was that right now, she felt anything but amenable… If he could take a peek in her head, he'd never let her go. In fact, he would probably place her under guard!

Of course, if he got to know her secret, he would never let her go anyway, war and world be damned.

"Let me go, Rhaegar," she said. "Let's go of each other before we start truly hating."

"I could never hate you," he said.

She could have told him the same thing. And it would even be true, probably. But she didn't.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. The doors were thrown open and Alric Gargalen entered with his sister and Rhaenys clinging to his hand. Naeryn and their companion Elvar Sand followed. Arthur Dayne was the last once in the procession, his hand ready to his sword.

Rhaenys ran to Elia as soon as she saw her and started babbling an excited tale about her adventures in the market. Aelinor made a swift curtsey and sank on the nearest couch. Satisfied that his charge was safely returned to her parents, Arthur bowed and left. Rhaegar noticed how pale and drawn he was. His time with his countrymen hadn't done him any favours.

"And we bought an array of knives!" Rhaenys went on. "I want to learn to use them. Teach me, Grandfather!"

Alric grinned. "We'll see," he said. "If you're well-behaved… But these aren't your knives, you know. They are for Lady Nym. If you prove to be a quick learner, I might buy you one of your own."

Rhaegar almost opened his mouth to interject that his daughter would definitely not be using knives for anything else but cut her food. Yet Rhaenys looked so happy that he didn't find it in him to spoil her joy.

A veritable army of servants followed with the purchases from today. Rhaenys immediately fished out the knives – and Naeryn took them out of her hands just as immediately. Elia went for the fabrics and then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the huge cradle of golden oak that two men were bringing in.

"It's for Alynna," Aelinor explained. "Lady Dayne, my niece," she added by the way of explanation to Rhaegar. "Just before we set on our journey, she gave birth to a lovely boy and girl. As far as I know, there isn't a double cradle at Starfall since twins never ran heavily in the Dayne line. That's Alynna's second set of twins and there is a cradle in Saltshore. But I thought she and Arel would love to have something of their own, not a remnant of the past."

The cradle was smooth and glassy, with a delicate design of various animals on both sides and a few rows of silver bells that sang as Elia rocked it. Her motions were slow and pained, her head bowed. She didn't look at Rhaegar and he didn't look at her. The room suddenly felt darker, dead, a dwell of whys and might have beens.