You are not Me
There was a gloomy feeling over Edoras and the royal court inside the Golden Hall of Meduseld, despite that no rider from Gondor had arrived with a public confirmation that Théoden had died heroically in battle.
"Théodred?"
He only gently pressed her hand in response, where he stared blankly up at the roof of their bedchamber. Elia could understand how her husband was feeling numb in his fresh grief over his father. Upon hearing that her uncle Lewyn had died at the Trident, she had cried bitter tears for him, while cursing Rhaegar for bringing him and the Martell soldiers with him, that Dorne was being forced to fight for Aerys because she and her children were being held as hostages.
"I can not gasp that he is gone…that Feder will never return to Edoras…"
"The loss of a beloved parent hits especially hard, because it is our parents that allow us to be born into the world."
She remembered the horror of watching Aria collapse from the unexpected and fatal heart attack in front of herself and Mellario after that they had agreed on the finishing touches on the wedding dress which she would wear when marrying Rhaegar in the Great Sept of Baelor, just as her mother had planned to spend some time with her grandchildren out in the palace gardens. The emptiness of looking everywhere after her mother in the Old Palace, even calling out for Aria sometimes out of habit, only to be reminded of her passing by seeing Doran seated on the spear seat used by the ruling Prince or Princess of Dorne.
"Feder? Madre?"
It was Aegon who opened the door, the twins standing behind him. It was clear that all three of them were still upset about losing their grandfather, and both parents shared the pain.
"Where is Rhaenys?"
All three pointed towards their shared bedchamber, suggesting that Rhaenys had requested to be alone for now.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
As confirmed by her siblings, Rhaenys had locked herself inside the bedchamber for the desire to be alone. But not merely for mourning Théoden, the paternal grandfather that she had known most of her life compared to her real one, King Aerys II Targaryen.
"I need your advice on what to do."
Around her, every single life between her current self and Princess Mara of Kemet was seated, the soul fragments glowing like faint stars in the night sky because the bedchamber was dark. Not every previous life had been a woman, and varied a lot in age and appearance. Nor had she always been reborn in Westeros and its different cultures, but across the whole world there, and it showed in the lives she had lived.
"Know one thing, though, Rhaenys, daughter of the Houses Martell of Dorne and Eorl of Rohan: You are not me, and you can not choose to repeat what I would do in this situation," the soul fragment of Mara explained.
"You know the threat that the Fallen King poses to both Dorne, Rohan, your family and everything else you hold dear, if the Dark Lord manages to regain the One Ring," Meria Martell added, speaking out of her personal experiences when Aegon the Conqueror and his two sisters had changed the map of Westeros through their dragons as their main weapon to become a new royal house that ruled over almost all of Westeros.
"Yes…"
No matter how much the varied past lives would disagree about what to do, they were in firm agreement about one thing:
Khamûl would seek out Rhaenys, as the current reincarnation of Mara, and most likely try to capture her inside some form of a gilded cage so he could keep a close eye on her.
"Forget about even trying to redeem him, Rhaenys. He is so deeply ensnared by Sauron and has committed so many crimes in the service of the Dark Lord over his long time as a Ringwraith by this point that I can not even think of where to start."
Much to her own sorrow, even Mara had to agree that any idea of redeeming Khamûl was a very naive, if not flat out impossible wish, and she could perfectly hear her father laugh cruelly in mockery if that was attempted.
"Then…how about offering him peace in death? To be free of this mockery of the afterlife that the belief in Kemet was? Yes, he will undoubtedly face judgment for his crimes and actions, but to see him living like this, a mockery of himself as an almighty Farao of Kemet, serving someone else…"
All of her previous lives fell silent at Rhaenys saying this, each one thinking about it.
"...I think…" Mara started in a trembling voice, "...Father would be more open to an offer like that. Not a naive and laughable idea of redemption, because even without all those horrible things that he have done under Sauron, he would that as a insult to his own self-image both as a ruler, warrior, sorcerer and as a man, but to finally be allowed the passing from this living world that the Ring of Power from Sauron is denying his soul, now that his mortal body has faded away since a very long time ago and he remains as a wraith."
Hearing this, Rhaenys realized something else that might need to be done if that plan would have a slim chance of working.
"Mara…please teach me what sort of funeral rites that were used in Kemet, the ones used for royalty. Even without a body to bury…he deserves the proper rites of a ruler, at least."
The ancient Princess smiled at her current reincarnation in gratitude over that despite everything that was happening in both Middle-earth and Westeros right now, Rhaenys drew a firm line at dishonoring the dead. The only exception was her biological father Rhaegar, and his father Aerys, for the events that led to House Targaryen losing the Iron Throne. After all, with knowing of how and why Mara had ended up in Dorne so long with some of her people from Kemet, their actions reminded a little too close of what Mara's half-brother Tar-Minyatur had done so long ago, because he had developed a twisted, sexual desire for her despite them sharing the same father but had different mothers, and how the half-Nûmenorian son of Khamûl had caused the Farao to enter the service of Sauron by destroying everything that the powerful ruler held dear, his family and realm.
"Gladly. If only to make peace with the passing of my father when the time comes."
~X~X~X~X~X~X
In the Temple of Shadows, as she slowly was dancing in front of the empty throne of her Master together with the other Consorts, Visenya could sense a flicker of the grief from Edoras.
"I am sorry for the loss of the old King, the man who has meant so much to you three ever since his son brought you to his home…"
Was she jealous of Rhaenys and Aegon for being blessed with a still alive, caring mother and a new family? A little bit, but it was much preferable to the more horrible visions of her half-siblings dying at an young age in the Rebellion, Elia and her children being murdered on the orders of Tywin Lannister.
"Tar-Minyatur, you were a rotten fruit from the very start, and having a similar type of mother did not help you. Looking down on Kemet, a kingdom and culture so different from her own, as well as desiring something out of reach…originally the false lie of her being a royal bastard for Milce before she had to leave Nûmenor to avoid that she would be exposed as a deceiver…and your own refusal to admit your own faults and that there is always people that will be more worthy of something than yourself…was the cause of the doom for you both."
She had not intended to see the historical events that had caused the downfall of Khamûl and him becoming a servant of Sauron after losing everything he held dear, but that was a good example of how she sometimes could not control her ability to see the past. Those visions were unpredictable, and the same with the timing they would arrive.
Always born as the doom of each family
You have been reborn into
Across the passing of thousand of years
How many lives have you ended as you grew to adulthood?
Just by having your soul taking over a new body
Inside an expecting mother, I wonder?
Always desiring what is out of your reach
Collecting as much power as you can gasp in your hands
Using family member as pawns for your own ambition
Wanting revenge on the half-sister who rejected you
And what you were refused, a crown!
Now reap what you sow, Tywin Lannister
With all your siblings, their descendants and
Your golden daughter Cersei drowned by my Master
Your sons Jaime and Tyrion already in exile with their families
To escape the growing wrath of the Westerlands commoners over
The long-lasting drought and famine brought by the curse of my Master
They would have raised up in open rebellion, tired of your brutality
Armed with torches, weapons in hand and their overwhelming numbers
To forcefully end your reign as Lord Lannister by violence
No more wealth, no more power, no followers, all titles taken away
Thanks to you, Tywin, the ancient House Lannister is no more!
Now you will pay for all the lives that are lost
For all the lies you have spoken until now
My Master have finally found out who you once was
The son who stole everything from him in the past!
All those years of searching, hunting for Princess Mara
In every life you both have lived in the other world
With the goal of killing her and everything she holds dear
That circle of death and rebirth now ends for you!
You mistook Elia Martell for her current self, based on appearance
when in reality it was her daughter, Princess Rhaenys!
I may be someone that never should have existed in the first place
Perhaps even being a villainess myself, by who I am serving as a Consort
But I will still not save you from my Master, Tywin Lannister
You have committed crimes far beyond your current lifetime
And now it is time for you to face the fate you originally escaped
To find your slow, painful death by the hands of the man who sired you
Finishing the song in her mind, Visenya spun around and knelt deeply for the empty throne in respect for her absent Master, a cruel smile on her face as she showed delight over much how she had managed to please Khamûl by revealing that Tywin Lannister was the current reincarnation of Tar-Minyatur.
It also felt extra enjoyable to know that Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon would never have to worry about the dreaded Lord Lannister again, despite them not knowing about it yet.
~X~X~X~X~X~X
Author note: Within the throne room in the Old Palace there are two seats on a dais, near twins to one another, the only difference being that one is inlaid with the Martell spear on its back and the other features the blazing Rhoynish sun that flew from the masts of Nymeria's ships. The spear seat is used by the ruling Prince or Princess of Dorne.
Quick reminder; Farao is the word for Pharaoh in my native Swedish, and I am using that for the title that Khamûl held as the ruler of Kemet, itself based on Ancient Egypt as I am imagining Khamûl as a Tolkien version of Ramses II in terms of power, ability to use magic and wide-spread reputation beyond the borders of his homeland to explain why Sauron wanted him as one of the Nazgûl