A chapter closer to the end! Thanks for staying around!

A Snake in the Mists

Proceedings

"We might start by telling me the names of your… advisors?" Rickard suggested.

The woman looked at them as if she had forgotten about their presence. Suddenly and ridiculously, Rickard was reminded of Maege Mormont. Not the looks or the style – in those, the two women were as different as Sothoros and Essos. No, it was something in the expression but Rickard couldn't put his finger on it.

"That's Lord Mikkel Gargalen," Alynna said. "My uncle."

The man looked at them and for the first time, they saw his face and recoiled in horror. His cheeks were not as gaunt, his face did not twitch in constant nervous ticks, his nails were short and clean, and his eyes were level and unrevealing, yet for all of that the similarity was strikingly obvious. He must be at least twenty years older than Aerys, Rickard though, yet it looks as if there are no more than five years between them. That was how aged the King – the former king now? – looked – had looked? Silver hair, refined facial lines, deep purple eyes. Really, it was the same – but Lord Gargalen had the light of sound reasoning while Aerys had been descending into darkness for years.

"My brother Alor," she went on. "And this is Prince Oberyn Martell, my cousin."

Rickard wasn't sure that he'd be able to tell them apart if he happened to meet them separately – they looked so much like each other, and the same age at that. Staring up at Brandon dislike for dislike. Rickard really wished that the Princess hadn't invited them for this meeting. Three hotheads around a table was not the way to negotiate.

"And of course," Alynna went on, looking at the woman who had just entered through a side door, ""this is my cousin Elia Hightower."

"Would you like some wine?" Elia asked politely and without waiting for reply, starting filling the goblets, as if it was a social gathering.

"What happened in the throne room?" Rickard asked, needing to know the sort of people he was dealing with. The Gargalen woman had managed to delay the moment of truth by claiming that she had no idea either but with her mother awake, the charade could not go on for much longer.

Everyone turned to look at Ranna; surprised, Rickard saw the wonder in their eyes. Perhaps Alynna Gargalen hadn't known, indeed. It all seemed like a new thing to them.

Lady Ranna's voice was soft and toneless. "Before I wed, I served the Lord of Light in Essos. He still sends me visions in the fire from time to time. This time, he revealed me something that I had seen before, many years ago."

"He showed you what the King would do?" Rickard didn't believe her for a moment. Beholden to her or not, there were only so many lies that he could take.

"No."

She stared in the space before her. Across the room, the fire suddenly went low, as if it, too, was deep in thought along with her.

"It happened twenty years ago, or so," the woman finally said. The shadows dancing on her face made her both beautiful and terrifying. "My husband had left recently with his ship and that night, I had moved Alor into Alynna's room. They both had a summer chill and it was easier for me to take care of them when they were together. The fever had finally gone down, so I removed the cold cloths and went to warm my hands to the fire. And then, I saw…" She paused. "It was a dark forest, a frightening forest. So old and powerful. The trees that were not trees. The black pool. And the woman came out of it. She was heavy with child and she prayed to the gods for a son to avenge her. I recognized her. I had seen her in Sunspear…"

Suddenly, Rickard abandoned his habit of always making a list of everyone's reaction. He knew what she was talking about. "She wouldn't have done this," he said, his mouth dry.

"Who?" Brandon asked and Rickard gestured at him to stay put. He needed to think. Somewhat to his surprise, he found out that he wasn't surprised. At the time of their wedding, Lyarra had refused to believe that he was taking her to wife in order to heal the family rift. For years, she had insisted that he had robbed her of her birthright. And as impetuous as she had been then, she would have made this prayer without thinking that the gods might answer it in a way she'd never want. He reached for his goblet because the burning in his throat was too great.

"What happened last night?" he finally asked. "How did you succeed?"

"I was desperate," Alynna Gargalen said simply. "The summons to come here arrived only two days after I learned of the Prince's disappearance. And the meaning was clear. I was to answer for his actions." She shrugged. "My experience with the King didn't reassure me that I'd get a fair hearing. So I took measures." She smiled a little. "Knowing the secret passages and tunnels is a good thing, as Lord Varys would confirm."

The notorious eunuch. Looking at her, it was clear that she believed everything that was said about him.

"And did you know them?"

"No," she said dryly. "But my uncle does."

Rickard looked at the man who didn't smile. Nothing about his face showed any satisfaction. Anything. He simply nodded.

"Is the King alive?"

"The former King, you mean," the woman corrected. "He's well cared for. Just being transported to a safer place."

"And your husband?"

That was a dangerous question but one that Rickard felt he needed to ask.

Her face turned to cold dark marble. Her eyes looked dead."He was last seen boarding a ship to Essos. And he wasn't alone."

He parried this attempt to shift the balance. "He can return any moment now."

"It'll be too late."

"You'll fight him?"

In her eyes, the old fire returned. "I will fight for my children. For my honour. I don't know if he intends to replace me with your daughter or push my children out of the succession for hers but he won't have the chance. My son is the King and I am the regent. I won't let anyone stand on the way of this."

For a moment, a sea of possibilities flooded Rickard's mind. So many chances! Rhaegar and this rash, impetuous daughter of his had squandered so many opportunities in vain. Even if they returned now, there would be few people who'd support them against the wronged wife who was surely securing the power even as they spoke.

"I would like to see him try," her brother murmured.

Alynna Gargalen looked at him and smiled. "If he ever does, you have my permission to break his nose," she said. "I know you want to."

Not kill him, Rickard noticed. Interesting. He had thought her stronger than this.

"Won't you kill him?" Brandon inquired. "Can I, then?"

Rickard almost shook his head in despair. He had hoped that their near death had changed Brandon for the better but it seemed he had reckoned without his host.

"Just forget about it," Alor Gargalen warned. "Rhaegar Targaryen is mine."

"No, he isn't!" his sister snapped. "I don't need anyone killing Rhaegar to make him regret even showing his face to me again if it ever happens."

It sounded so threateningly that for a moment, Rickard truly wished for the Prince to return to her.

Of course, that would mean that she'd face Lyanna as well… Women like this one, and with power like the one she apparently held now, tore good and naïve girls like Lyanna from limb to limb without thinking twice if they felt that they had been offended. And Lyanna truly had offended her.

"So, you will fight him?" he asked again, just to be sure. "On a battlefield?"

He could only welcome her decision to make the man who had dishonoured his daughter pay. But he felt uncomfortable with the rebel princess, the faithless wife. He could only expect the same to be true for the other lords in Westeros.

She nodded curtly. "If it comes to this, I will."

He hesitated. "I only ask you to show a young girl the nobility of character you and your lady mother showed us, Your Grace," he said. "If it ever happens that my daughter comes within your reach…"

Brandon shot to his feet. "That's rich!" he exploded. "Her whoreson of a husband turns the head of an innocent girl and we're the ones who should grovel to her now, as if we owe her something?"

"An innocent girl?" Alor Gargalen cut in, his sneer evident. "By your own man's account, the girl in question doesn't know what innocence is. And you can stop playing the wronged party, not here and not to us. Shall we remember whose sister it was who took the road with a man she barely knew, a man who had spoken his vows with another woman, the mother of his newborn heir, as soon as he told her a few words the stupid girl wanted to hear? Not mine, Stark. Not mine. So if I were you, I would have kept my fucking mouth closed after it almost got me killed once!"

"Do you really want to talk about morals? Do you, Dornishman?"

Alor made a quick step forward and Mikkel Gargalen stepped between him and Brandon without hesitation, with the air of someone who made it a habit to keep young and enraged men away from each other. "That's enough!" he said sharply. "That's enough, Alor, and the same holds true for you as well, Stark. We aren't here to throw accusations. I won't suffer that Alynna be insulted but Lady Lyanna isn't here to defend herself, so I find the whole thing an exercise in futility. Alynna, I take it that you won't try to harm the girl even if the opportunity presents itself?"

"I won't," she said reluctantly. "It's the Prince that I bear most grievances with. It isn't that I think her as blameless as Lord Brandon does but at the end, it was the Prince who wronged me more grievously. As long as she doesn't try to infringe on me and mine more than she already has, she's safe from me."

"That isn't nearly good enough…"

"Sit down, Brandon!" Rickard snapped. "I apologize on my son's behalf, my lady," he said. "He's still upset by all that's happened. I appreciate your honesty and I thank you."

Her eyes were dark and fiery. She seemed to realize that she was unable to mask that, so she looked down. Rickard left her to that. He realized that whatever else she might have said, it would have been a lie.

"It looks like the first conflict of many has already arisen," Elia Hightower said calmly; stunned, Rickard saw her serene smile. "I daresay these chambers will see many more angry clashes and insulting words. But if we don't forget out common goal, I think it should all be fine, at the end."

Brandon gave her a look of distrust but didn't say anything. She smiled a little and Rickard suddenly realized why she had been brought to this meeting. She's be the peacemaker. His respect for Alynna Gargalen grew up a notch.

"Do we have a common goal?" he asked.

"My goal is to remedy the mistakes the former King did," the Princess said. "And I'm afraid many of them were at your expense, my lord. I sent a raven to the Eyrie as soon as I got a hold on his correspondence."

The Eyrie! Rickard looked at her in horror and Brandon started to rise again. "Ned! He…"

"He'll be fine," the woman said quickly. "I think. The day of the trial, King Aerys sent a raven to Jon Arryn demanding his wards' heads. I, of course, cancelled this order as soon as I realized it had been issued."

The day of the trial. Only yesterday. Gods, what if she had been late? What if Jon Arryn turned to be untrustworthy? What if… No, he would certainly not hurry to behead Ned as soon as Aerys told him to. And the second letter would have arrived almost immediately after the first one.

"I expect a raven from Lord Arryn soon," the Princess said. "I invited him to attend my son's court, along with both young men."

Rickard looked away at the thought that he'd have to explain to Robert why the wedding would not take place. It would be so humiliating, having to apologize on Lyanna's behalf, admit what she had done. It would mean a certain rift with the Stormlands. There was no saying which way Jon Arryn would turn. He loved both Ned and Robert. How could Lyanna destroy our standing so carelessly?

"I wish to restore the good relations, my lord," the Dornish woman went on. "I do not feel any guilt on the Prince's behalf but I'd like my son's realm to be one of peace and harmony – as much as possible. That's why, as a sign of my good will, I offer you a marriage in exchange for the one you lost."

He looked at her, all attention. Her hand was caressing the string before her. The rope she'd hang them on if they didn't accept her offer of piece?

"My eldest daughter, the Lady of the Tor, is eight years old and neither my goodmother nor I have made any plans as to her future. Your son is twelve, I believe?"

"Thirteen," Rickard corrected mechanically, his mind working. "I haven't made any plans about him either."

He had been meaning to build a castle but the woman's suggestion sounded much better. Not as good as it would have been for Benjen to rule in his wife's name but better than being provided for by Winterfell entirely. And vastly superior to the Night's Watch, ever a last resort for the Starks. The Tor was one of the finest lands in Dorne, and rich as well. And it might be even better if all belonged to the girl in deed as well as name. Dragonstone and the Iron Throne had been meant for Rhaegar Targaryen. This hadn't stopped the snake of a woman in front of him to claim both in retaliation.

"Perhaps my daughter could be your plan?" the Princess suggested.

"It could be," he agreed. Things were getting better than he had expected. And if they forged an alliance and kinship, it was less likely that she'd be willing to harm Lyanna if the stupid girl, may the gods keep her, stepped into her nest.

Finally, she looked up. Grim resolve tightened her features into a clay mask broken by the involuntary movement of muscles when her lips tightened. "There's just one more thing. He must go to Dorne. Squire for my goodbrother in Tor or one of my brothers."

"Out of question," Rickard said without thinking twice. He was not sending Ben so far away, in the land of snakes that had a reason to hate him on Lyanna's behalf, so soon after the scandal.

She ground her teeth. "Very well," she said. "We have nothing to talk about, then."

He waited for her to go on, mention little Renly Baratheon's name. But all he got in reply was her hard breathing. It was strange how of all things that had transpired in the last days, this would be the one to steer her out of the road of her well-controlled balance of mind and behavior. This. A very ordinary bargaining.

Her eyes glinted wet and his bewilderment turned to horror. He could deal with many things but weeping women were not one of them. She brought her hand under her nose and it came down gleaming. Mikkel Gargalen handed her a piece of cloth. She blew her nose, took a few deep breaths and remained silent.

"Is that it?" Rickard asked because he really didn't understand. One did not leave negotiations open like this.

"Yes, I think," she replied, her resolve restored, and glared at him with the same anger her brother had regarded Brandon with. The tears made her eyes deeper, wider. "I shall not discuss it further. For all my attempts to explain your daughter's behavior away, she was a party to my offense and humiliation. I was endangered. My children were placed in danger. And you can believe me when I say that the thought of giving even the lowliest whore in Dorne to a Stark is repellent to me, yet I have to offer you my own daughter. But I won't tolerate someone who is a complete stranger to us to saunter one day and take the place alongside my little girl without knowing anything about us beside the fact that we're Dornish. Or someone who'd ruin her health to get children out of her the way Rhaegar Targaryen did with me and then run away with the first tail he takes a liking to!"

Her ugly words echoed in the solar, for she was now shouting. Elia Hightower placed a hand on her arm. "Please, Alynna," she said. "Peace and common goal."

There was something soothing about the girl, Rickard could feel it even through his own anger. And he had the feeling that they'd all need much soothing of nerves in the months to come. Common goal could attribute to peace only so much.

Two hundred thirty three. That was how many stairs the wretched tower had. Rhaegar had counted them more than two hundred thirty three times in the last six moons. He simply didn't have anything better to do. All his scenarios of what he'd do to his perjurious wife had been exhausted, repeated more times than he could count and at the end, even his prolific imagination had refused to supply him with more. All the water spots on his walls had been accounted for. All the songs he could wrench from the harp he had been oh so generously allowed to keep had been played and it laid forgotten and unwanted under the window, much like Alynna's harp when she had been unable to handle it with her bloated fingers. And lately, he hadn't been in the right mood anyway. Finally, he had realized that no one would come for them. That whatever Alynna, that traitor Arthur, and her brute of a father had had in mind might have actually worked. And the handful of servants and the dozen of men guarding them turned mum when asked questions.

That was the reason that he met Alor Gargalen's arrival early in the morning with relief that almost equaled his anger. By his brief acquaintance with his goodbrother, he knew that Alor would tell him what was going on, even if he tried to stab him to death in the process.

"Is he bringing us freedom?" Lyanna asked hungrily.

"I doubt it," Rhaegar said softly because he truly regretted her disappointment. As it often happened, she turned her back to him and went to watch the rider from the other window.

"I am glad to see you're well-looked after," Alor said when he dismounted. "Is there something you'd like to receive in regards to your comfort?"

"No," Rhaegar replied. "But thank you for your concern," he added sarcastically. "To travel this long just to take care of us."

"It won't be a repeated occurrence," Alor assured him. "We're moving you."

Rhaegar couldn't say he was this surprised. This tower, as abandoned as it was, was no place for keeping someone for a long period of time. "Where?"

Alor pretended not to hear. "In a few days, it'll be a fact. We're preparing your new lodgings."

"Until when?" Rhaegar asked angrily. "This is getting ridiculous! You cannot keep us forever."

"Indeed." Alor was now headed for the small stable. The rest of them followed him, desperate to get something more of him. Lyanna was very pale and Rhaegar felt extremely guilty. He had promised her freedom and instead he had gotten her in a prison worse than the one she had dreaded.

Alor started rubbing his horse dry. "I am here because Alynna ordered it," he said. "She wants to make sure your accommodations are adequate. Personally, I cannot fathom why she bothers. I was all for doing away with both of you and save ourselves many troubles…"

"Since when do you take orders from Alynna?" Rhaegar asked, straining to see him better in the dimly lit stable. There were no windows and the smell of horses was everywhere.

"Since I swore my loyalty to her as the regent of our King Aegon, the Sixth of His Name," Alor replied with a slow deliberate smile. He had his eyes fixed on Rhaegar, determined not to miss a moment of his reaction. "Yes, many things changed since you decided to take a break from everything and let your wife and children pay for your pleasure, so to speak. Your father's madness became extremely dangerous to everyone, so a new king was in demand. So two weeks ago, the coronation took place. Everyone was there and swore – Mace Tyrell, Robert Baratheon… Rickard Stark."

"That's a lie!" Lyanna cried out. "My father would never swear fealty to this woman."

"Bloody thieves," Rhaegar spat, a flush overcoming his face and neck.

"That's not what the lords said. No one was pleased that you chose to disappear without a word, leading to a group of Northern lords and their sons being executed because Brandon Stark demanded that you'd come out or die."

"What!" Lyanna screamed and swayed precariously. Rhaegar tried to support her but she pushed him back and leaned against a bale of hay.

"Oh your father and brother aren't dead, my lady," Alor reassured her. "Not by the lack of trying on Aerys' part. He tried to kill them because he thought your flight was a part of a great conspiracy. If my sister hadn't taken care of him that same night, your family size would have gotten a lot smaller."

"What happened?" Rhaegar whispered, fear being the emotion sweeping everything else. "Is he… did she…?"

"No, he isn't dead," his goodbrother said and Rhaegar could breathe again. "Your mother and brother are untouched."

"What do you care?" Lyanna yelled and glared at Rhaegar and then the Dornishman. "Why didn't she have him killed? How many of my people did he put to death?"

Alor glanced at her. "It isn't our job to avenge your dead, my lady. We're only bound to take care and keep as many alive as possible. My sister and her children most of all." He turned to Rhaegar. "You! Do you realize what you did? Alynna was summoned to answer for your running away. He pushed her to the marble as she was holding your son. Do you realize that Aegon might have died?" He paused and took a breath to collect himself. "Well, that was something else that no one liked. Few people like their kings abandoning ruling and families to run away to Essos. So they were open to Alynna's… suggestions."

"Bribes, you mean." Rhaegar's anger was rising again.

"As you wish. What matters is that almost all the kingdoms support her and swore fealty to Aegon. There were some who spoke in your favour but by the day of coronation, those were vanishingly few." He shrugged. "I recommended that she sent Jon Connington in exile. We'll see."

That traitorous snake! Was she about to take her revenge on anyone whose only fault was staying loyal? "Jon did nothing!"

"He refused to swear the oath," Alor said. "That's treason."

Rhaegar grabbed a pack of hey and threw it against him. "What you did, that's treason!"

"Is it?" Alor wondered, taking a straw out of his hair and turning it this way and that. "The lords didn't think this way. And it isn't as if the blood of the dragon has been lost. Do not forget that my lady grandmother is a sister of King Aegon's, and an older one at that." The thoughtfulness disappeared from his face and in its place came fierceness. "You lost, Rhaegar. Accept it. You lost!"

With a horrifying clarity, Rhaegar realized that he had. He had lost his crown. He had lost his children. He had even lost his life without anyone taking it away, for he'd be prisoner until Alynna decided to let him go. If she ever did.

"Remember," he heard her murmur. "Next time, they'll be poisonous ones."

The time was dragging by. Then stopped at all. Then started dragging again. Alynna had wished to leave the evening feast sooner but she didn't dare. And still, just by staying there she had the feeling that she was giving her secret away. Surely people would only need to look at her to see the glowing that she felt inside?

He was waiting in her solar. Just at the sight of him, all silver and radiant with joy, made her feel weak.

Arthur closed the door and stood to guard it.

She was alone with him, and the gentle aroma of the star kisses he had brought her.

"Errol," she whispered and fell silent because her voice betrayed her. That was the first time they saw each other in more than a year.

He crossed the solar, took her face between his palms, caressed it with a look. "Gods," he whispered and it was not joy that she saw on his face now but pain, torment at what she had been through, what was written in the lines of her face in letters that only he could see.

And then, the shield gave out. Tears ran down her cheeks, the tears that she had kept in all this time – when she had realized that she alone would face Aerys' fury, when she had lived in this terrible uncertainty that Rhaegar might appear with his new woman and drive her away, when she had seen the fury of the madman directed straight at her, when she had been riding to and away from the Dragon Gate, when she had been throwing flatteries and threats to win lords over… Finally, she could let herself weep.

He held her tight, his face buried in her hair, his heart beating unevenly against her cheek. She clung to him as if she'd never let go and she didn't, even when her sobs subsided and her throat burned. She only did when she had to blow her nose. She supposed it looked red, her entire face puffy and hard to the touch. Tears did not flatter her looks.

"I love you, you should know this," she said very softly but she knew that he'd hear.

"No," he said. "I didn't. I thought you might but I wasn't sure. I wanted so much to be so that I thought I might be seeing things."

"I've known it since you gave me those star kisses at Harrenhal. Not a crown of roses. Not huge vases to impress. But something that you knew I liked. Even after ten years."

He took her hands between his own and for the first time in many months, Alynna felt safe and cared for. "I think I could never forget anything about you."

"I thought you had," she whispered and drank some water. "When you stopped…"

Errol didn't answer immediately. Instead, he led her to a couch and brought an additional pillow for her back. She tugged at his arms to make him sit down next to her.

"You were always there," he finally said. "I think that's why I didn't realize what I felt for you. Even that time when I returned and you were away already." He smiled. "Wed to Myles. But the first time I saw the two of you together…" He paused. "It wasn't this easy, you know. I loved him as well, he was a dear friend. I had to stay away. I just couldn't be around the two of you together. I am glad I could be around him, though."

Love. Jealousy. Friendship. Desire. Such a strange and mysterious thing life was! The fact that he hadn't hated Myles over her had comforted her in those first months after her husband's death. It probably comforted him, too, even now. "I am glad as well," she murmured and then, as if having received an unspoken permission, he leaned over and kissed her.

When they split up, Alynna was looking at him amazed. Twenty-five-year-old, two marriages behind, and that was the first time she felt so completed, as if a long forgotten part of her had finally sprang to activity and clicked into its place. She moved closer, feeling that she'd die if she didn't try to melt into him.

"Love isn't what the singers say it is."

There was wonder in her voice and Errol laughed as he looked at her. "You don't need to look so indignant."

"But I do!" Alynna protested. "They get it wrong and for a while, they made me doubt if what I felt for you was love at all. I didn't think of you with passion all that often as I fought my battle expecting Aegon and later when I played the game of thrones. Just sometimes, when I had a moment to spare. Most of time, you were just… there. I didn't need to think about you at all."

He was silent, enjoying her irritation. Alynna had never tolerated being made a fool of. But she looked like she had always had when finding out something new and wonderful.

Then, the glowing in her eyes disappeared and his heart ached as always when she was hurt. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"

"I just wish I could wed you," Alynna whispered. "But it cannot happen, can it?"

"No," he said very softly. 'You can just have me. And you do."

As he had aimed, the sorrow disappeared. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him so tight that she might be trying to suffocate him. "I love you so much Errol! How is it possible that I didn't know?"

Smiling, he parted her hands a little, just so that he could breathe, and then held her back. "Well, now you know it and that's all that matter, am I right?"