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Lady of Dorne

Growing Conflicts

Lyanna had never had any idea that there were so many royal charities. She sincerely wondered how Queen Alysanne had found the time to do anything else but deal with them! It was already well past noon and her eyes were starting to sting. She had spent hours reading documents that in the beginning had held little meaning to her and now, with the letters blending together, she understood nothing at all.

"Where did these papers come from all of a sudden?" she asked, making sure that she wasn't raising her voice. The woman in front of her was not to blame for her fatigue or the fact that she felt hopelessly stupid. Quite old, with white hair with the peculiar velvety looks showing that once, it must have been as golden as the sun, Septa Erzbet had been running this orphanage for over a decade. It was said that she was of noble birth, a daughter of an influential Vale lord. Each time Lyanna saw her, she wondered why a woman like this would forsake all the world could have given her to spend her life in serving the Seven and tending those in needs. The visits to various asylums and hospitals always left Lyanna upset for days. How could one choose to live among this? It was evident that the septa had been very beautiful when young, so the usual reasons for women to join the Faith were not applicable to her.

Septa Erzbet gave her a look of surprise. The sunlight coming through the window cast her figure in golden halo. She looked ethereal. "They did not come all of a sudden, Your Grace," she said. "It's just that the Queen took care of this part before."

She didn't seem to realize her slip and Lyanna wasn't about to remind her. The Queen, she thought without much bitterness, with hardly any bitterness at all. Yes, Elia was a queen, be it born or bred. Who am I to take offense that the septa doesn't think of me as queen when I am not one?

She was already chafing under the burden of her new responsibilities. She had never realized just how much work a queen had to do. Elia had always shouldered the monotonous tasks without complains – at least Lyanna had never heard of her complaining.

But now it was all up to her. Papers waited for her when she woke up in the morning and when she went to bed at night. Suppliants lined up in front of her chambers, so she could not make a step out without being ambushed by someone with an urgent plea. The castellan was always in dire need of her opinion and approval. Most of the time, she simply placed her signature under the parchments he handed her without even knowing the details of what she had approved. Orphanages, asylums, and hospitals revealed a new side that she had not encountered before: they were sharing about problems in the construction of the buildings, discords about how they could serve their institutions best, disappearing of funds… Lyanna had to think over the resolving of such sobering matters when the part she most enjoyed was just spending time with the children and making sure that they were adequately cared for. She was making her first hesitant steps into the specifics of the mechanism that made those charities function – and it was hard.

Her afternoons and evenings were occupied with court affairs, as much as she disliked some of her gossiping ladies. She barely had the time to see Jon anymore. Sometimes, she bolted out to the stables and had the boys prepare her horse, going to a wild ride. The wind in her hair and the feeling of the steady mount beneath her were the only things that could give her some semblance of comfort. Of course, when she returned, she had already missed some of her appointments and had to put up with the Queen Mother's veiled disapproval and Rhaegar's not so veiled one.

But no matter how tired she was and how much she wanted to escape the papers she could not understand at all, this orphanage was not a place she would escape from. Not this one, not any other. Still, when she heard that some repairs were needed, she was suddenly afraid that she'd be the one who would have to find builders and was very relieved to hear that the septa already had a list of people she had worked before in the past. "How much money do you need?" she asked eagerly and signed the payment order without any further questions. Vaguely, she realized that all the people she had been signing such orders in the last few months could be robbing her blind without her knowing it but she couldn't do anything to stop it. Managing one's finances was not something Lord Rickard had thought his daughter needed to know. Well, he tried to get me interested but he was never as insistent at forcing me to take those lessons as he was at making a lady out of me, so I mostly got away, she admitted. Now she wished she hadn't. The thought of her father made her feel grief and shame all over again.

She expected that soon, she'd have yet another clash with the Master of Coin. She now realized very well why Elia had never been enthused to see the man. If it was up to him, not a single coin would leave the treasury to help a charity.

"We'll need more people," Septa Erzbet said. "Some of our maidservants are getting quite old and cannot perform effectively."

Lyanna wondered where she was expected to find competent staff from. Because she could already say that would be expected of her.

To her great disappointment, when they were done with the practical part, it was too late for her to go and see the children, she had to go back to the Red Keep for the reception of the new Tyroshi ambassador.

"What are you doing?" Rhaella hissed under her breath when everyone had finally taken their seats in the throne room.

What had she done now? Lyanna didn't answer, quite sure that she'd be told soon.

"You cannot show up wearing only Essosi fabrics and jewels," Rhaella said. "They're trying to negotiate further discounts right now… The Queen's attire will be taken as a sign pointing at…"

Now, Lyanna understood. One of the little things that for some reason mattered so much. Where had she let herself in for no better reason than love? Was there a place for a Northern woman in this world where everything was codes and ciphers?

"I won't change," she said firmly. She wouldn't give everyone the pleasure of seeing their Queen behave like a scolded child. Undoubtedly, everyone was aware of her mistake and would gloat at seeing her humiliation.

Rhaella looked around quickly without showing that she was doing so. "Of course not," she said. On top of everything else, there was no time for that. And the defiant flash in Lyanna's eyes somehow soothed her irritation. How could she stay angry for long with a child? That was what Lyanna was, despite the fact that she was trying to step into her new part – a child. A defiant, angry child who did not understand. Was that what Rhaegar had been seeking – the mix of defiance and bedazzled adoration that only a child was capable of?

Unfortunately, whatever he had been seeking then, he had grown tired of. Lyanna realized it as soon as he accompanied her to her chambers. Sometimes, that still gave her joy that would evaporate as soon as she woke up alone, with him gone on whatever duties or visions summoned him. Other times, it made her bristle for a fight, like now.

"Where have you been?" he asked as soon as she took off her crown with a sigh of relief. The gold thing was massive, although beautiful to look at, and it gave her a stiff neck each time she wore it. The glint of the seven rubies always reminded her of bleeding stars.

She gave him a level look. "I was at an orphanage that needs some repairs and changes," she said.

"And did you help?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

Lyanna's back straightened. "I did my best," she said coldly, wishing for him to leave. She didn't even want him in her bed, not tonight.

"Meanwhile, there was a last moment problem with the reception. It was a good thing my mother was here. And when she leaves for Dragonstone? What are you going to do? Other than showing disrespect to the work of our own weavers and giving hopes to Essosi to gain an advantage in the reductions they want?"

"Says the man who thought that leaving a madman in charge while he was hiding away with a young girl was such a great idea," Lyanna countered.

He flushed. "That was a grievous mistake that I deeply regret," he snapped.

"Not nearly as much as I do," Lyanna shot back. "If I am not mistaken, it was my family who paid the price for you to have me as your Queen. You really should have taken some pains to learn who you were entangling yourself with. I never sailed under false colours."

"A queen," he said sharply. "I expected a queen. Someone who could do something right."

For some reason, the sight of her fumbling with her necklace in a futile attempt to open it infuriated him. In the light of all the candelabra burning, she looked like a golden statue of a goddess – one at whose feet he had once worshipped.

"Like Elia, you mean?" she snapped, startling him not for the first time with her sharp intuition about his feelings. "Just because she never complained, you think it is so easy…"

He had been trying not to think of Elia, for it made him lose his judgment. Hearing her name from Lyanna's lips felt somehow indecent. They had not thought of her as they had been taken in by each other, optimistically believing that everything would sort itself somehow.

"It might not have been easy on her but she certainly didn't stop her from succeeding. Might be the blood of Rhoynar or the fact that Dorne never bent the knee but Elia was royal and she knew how royalty should go about their duties!"

Finally, Lyanna managed to score a victory against the pearl chains of the necklace, threw the jewel on the nearest table and whirled about, her eyes flashing. "What do you want?" she asked in a voice that she deemed extremely calm. "Once, you told me that you married her out of duty, that this marriage was a chain you simply could not get rid of. Now, you look like someone who quite likes the chains of duty! Why did you take me at all if a dutiful queen was all you wanted? You knew what I was."

"Because I thought she could not give me the one thing that I needed beyond duty!" he snapped. "Yes, I like the chains of duty. Or maybe I am quite used to them, I don't know. But they are part of me – and when I acted out of duty, I never did wrong. It was when I wanted something more when it all failed…"

He saw her stiffen. "What," she asked very softly, "is the thing that she couldn't give you and I could?"

Something about her told him that she already knew the answer. She just wanted a confirmation and he gave it to her. "A third child," he said, the anger suddenly going out of him. "Lyanna, I've loved you since the moment I caught you there, near Harrenhall. But I had my duty. I had a family. And I knew that I needed a third head of the dragon. After Aegon's birth, I thought Elia could not give it to me, so I had to find someone else. I felt it was an answer to my heart's desire. I…"

But she was no longer listening to him. Her face had gone white. "A third head of the dragon!" she screamed. "You mean my father and brother died because you needed a third child for some prophecy? That there was a war because you simply felt that you had to help a prophecy?"

The pause before he replied was an answer in itself. "I had to have the third head," he said. "But I could have taken any woman I wanted to fulfill it. I chose you because…"

"Because you loved me?" she mocked.

"Yes!"

Her chambermaids entered, saw them facing each other, and were quick to withdraw.

All of a sudden, Lyanna looked smaller, defeated. "All this time, I thought it was out of love," she whispered. "I thought it had started the moment you gave me that laurel."

"It did."

She shook her head, so overwhelmed that she could not even find anger. "No," she said. "It was over then, wasn't it? I am sure you regretted it later, it was such a scandal… It would have clashed with your duty, wouldn't it?"

The way he looked aside told her that she had hit the mark. It did not surprise her. Perhaps she had known for years. She felt both anger and pity for the girl who had dreamed of the handsome prince for months, clutching that laurel while the Prince himself probably wished he had torn the laurel instead of giving it to her! She had ruined her life and lost her father and brother for a lie, the promise of eternal life that had guided her… but not him, despite his assurances of the contrary.

"Leave," she said coldly, forcing tears back. "Leave before I kill you!"

He gave her a long look. "We'll talk later," he said. "When you're more composed."

She stared at him, not quite believing what she had heard. "Composed?" she echoed. "You think it's a mood? You're mad!"

The anger crossing his face delighted her. Madness was the one topic never discussed in Rhaegar's presence. He made a swift step toward her and she bared her teeth, ready for a fight, relishing the prospect, anticipating the feeling of thorn flesh under her teeth and nails… But to her disappointment, he simply turned back and strode out of the bedchamber.

She sank onto the nearest coffer, unable to think, too numb to feel anything. But when, after a while, her sensations returned, it was to a faint pang in her lower belly. A savage smile came to her lips at the thought that Rhaegar's dream of his prophecy had been upset once again.

The price for the safe haven that she had found with Arthur was that the impact with the real world hit them more heavily when they left their chambers. Stony-faced, she heard the news that had arrived just last night with the dark sense of foreboding.

"The Vulture King," she echoed. "We have a new Vulture King roaming the Marches once again? Did I get this right?"

Ciar could not blame her for not wanting to believe. The last time this ghost had troubled them had been in the days of Daeron the Good. A good hundred years ago.

Why had the man hiding behind this name decided to strike now? The people around the table looked at each other. The answer was pretty obvious and Doran wouldn't have lost time to discuss the obvious. Yet Elia did, deciding that she needed to have her thoughts confirmed. "Either he thinks I'm too wrapped in my new marriage to take effective measures, or he thinks to pass this as a masked defiance against the Iron Throne on my side now that I've wed Arthur. A way to spite Rhaegar further."

And spited will he be, Ashara would undoubtedly tell her. Elia had started to wonder why there hadn't been any reaction from King's Landing. To her displeasure, Rhaegar's silence could always scare her more than his anger. Not that she was truly afraid but she wanted to know what his answer would be.

But right now, she was more concerned with this Vulture King than she was with her former husband. "He acts around the passes," she went on. "I'd suppose he intends to do something to disrupt Alaenys' journey to Storm's End. And with some good arranging, things might be made to look as if we're playing Stannis Baratheon false."

The silence that followed was heavy with dark foreboding. They might have to deal with a casual opportunist determined to seize the moment after all – but even so, Alaenys Targaryen was a prize everyone desired, be it for ransom or something else. And should she fall into his hands, no amount of witnesses and increasing of the dowry could make the Lord of Storm's End to accept her. Her honour would be soiled beyond repair. And if it was an elaborate attempt to sabotage the relations Elia was trying to cultivate with the Baratheon lord… they might find themselves into an even deeper swamp. It might even be the start of unrest within Dorne itself. The fact that the efforts of the man were focused in the Dornish Marches – the other side of – did not offer any reassurance. That could change in a minute – after alienating the King's bitter repudiated wife from her Westerosi neighbours.

Elia rose from her seat and slowly went to the huge map taking up an entire wall. Her finger slowly slid over the lines marking Dorne. "I will not suffer his impudence," she claimed. "At all. He has to be dealt with before Alaenys leaves. And it's my consort who will do it, not the local lords. I will show the Seven Kingdoms that unrest will not be tolerated."

This was the moment a boy rushed into the council chamber with a letter. Elia held out a hand and her heart made a leap when she recognized the dragon seal.

Rhaegar wanted of her to go to King's Landing and justify herself for this new marriage. Elia shook her head, smiling in a bemused way. He was even more furious than she had imagined. Still, she had no intention to indulge him.

Her eyes went to the map again. She smiled again, shrewdly. At the end, this Vulture King might die without ever knowing what a favour he had done to his Princess and Dorne.