As always, thanks to everyone who stayed with me till the end of this tale.

Suns and Storms

And the River Flowed

The sound from the children's rooms attracted Arianne immediately upon entering. Alric was telling Elia a story about Queen Nymeria and Oberyn and Doran were having a furious dispute that they tried to keep away from their father's hearing – and their mother's as well, once they saw her. Arianne felt a sting of worry. There was no doubt that Oberyn had committed a transgression once again – and even less doubt that no matter what it was, Doran wouldn't tell her. But then, he isn't obliged to, she reminded herself. He's Oberyn's brother, not parent. Yet she had grown accustomed to relying on her eldest for so much that relying on him to keep his unruly little brother in check followed almost inevitably – and that was not fair on either of them.

A smile crept on her lips even as she pointed out that it was well past bedtime. Elia and Oberyn started protesting, too happy to see their father after a new two month long absence. Arianne was relentless, though, and to her relief, Alric rose, making it clear that he agreed.

Elia wanted to have him play her pony and he almost agreed before reconsidering. He's truly better, Arianne thought, relieved; for the last year or so, her husband's condition had been such that it had been unwise for him to exert his back even with such a tiny pressure.

"What about you, Naeryn? What would you have of me?" Alric asked, smiling; Arianne looked around, quite surprised. Her niece was not a noisy child by nature but being too still for Arianne to notice her was not usual.

The little girl came to Alric hesitantly. "A hand," she mumbled.

"What?" Alric said, uncomprehending, and Arianne wanted to weep. Doran drew back, his face suddenly pale. Naeryn was the very image of loveliness, people said, with her bright amethyst eyes, silver hair and skin that was so pale and radiant that it could rival any star. But she still hadn't learned to dress entirely on her own; she still soiled her clothing at eating and stumbled and fell down repeatedly because she could not keep her balance very well. At the end, it was not the memory of her sharp mind and charming smile that those who first met her carried away. Always, always it was the smooth oval of perfect skin, the void where a left hand should have been.

"Precious," Alric sighed, stricken, drawing her close. "I would make you a hand if I could. But I can't."

Naeryn's lip quivered but she did not cry. For all she thought her uncle could do anything, she was quick to accept the inevitable. "Can't you?"

Alric held her tight and then kissed the oval of her left wrist. Before them, Oberyn and Elia were silent. "No, my child," he said softly. "I can't."

"I'll help you learn how to do everything with one hand," Oberyn suddenly said and Elia followed suit. But this promise did not erase the sadness from their cousin's eyes.

"To bed now," Arianne said firmly, trying to break the dark mood that had suddenly descended upon the chamber. "Tomorrow, you can have your father for the entire day… if he agrees," she added playfully and had the pleasure of witnessing the most heartfelt pleas she had heard from the children in a long time indeed. Only Naeryn was silent.

Alric followed Arianne to their chambers where he immediately sank into a chair, leaning his head against the back of it. Arianne watched him silently, already knowing what he'd say – he had given her enough hints in his letters, - yet hoping that it would turn out to be something else. She came near, placing a goblet into his hand. He only drank a small sip before leaving it aside. "Nothing," he said.

The word sounded hollow and bleak against the soft delightful murmur of the waterworks. Was he talking about the outcome of his journey, or the hopelessness of his niece's situation? Arianne held out a hand and laced her fingers through his. "I wonder why we're so disappointed," she murmured, refusing to think of Naeryn, for it broke her heart and she couldn't do anything to give the girl what she wanted. "All of our past experience shows us that justice is a dish that everyone likes serving to their own taste. Why did we believe it would be different this time?"

He didn't look at her as he replied, "Maybe we're really as foolish as your father said we were. I have no other explanation."

That had not been his first travel through Dorne to make sure that justice was served equally at any region under Arianne's rule. Each time, he returned livid after the inevitable fights with the lords who only pursued one justice – their own justice. Their own whims. Every attempt on Arianne and Alric's part to enforce rules that were equally valid everywhere was met with resistance – and the inevitable cleaving to the Yronwoods. All their efforts could repair the situation only for a while – they could not change human nature and their lords were pretty human in their attempts to safeguard their own interests. Alric had encountered bribery and abuses once again, fought them and stopped them, only to have them starting to rebuild the moment he turned his back.

His back…

"Are you in pain?" Arianne asked and looked at him intently in the candlelight.

He shook his head. "No. I might be tired but I am not sick."

"Good," Arianne said, recognizing his words for their true content: the pain that made him look so gaunt was due to exhaustion, not sickness.

Usually, she liked walking around the pools after everyone had retired, even the servants. There was something soothing in the soft patter of water, the muted caress of the stars. Tonight, though, she only looked at her husband and sighed. "Come on," she said. "I'll rub your back."

He rose immediately, with eagerness that made her ache with sympathy and joy at the same time. His pain could never bring her pleasure, yet at the same time she was glad to see just how well her strategy worked. Ever since the Council Session, she had been careful to maintain a relationship of fondness and affection, friendship but nothing overtly intimate since that would only serve to remind him of her blunder. And he had reacted just as she had hoped, by falling back to the fond side of their relationship as well. He had spent too much time with her. A total breakup would leave him without foundations to cling to, something that would be hard for anyone, even him.

He took his clothing off and lay down on the bed. Arianne left only on candle burning and reached for the oils she kept in the coffer next to her dressing table and started working on his muscles. A small sound of contentment showed her that she was doing a fine job.

The stir of passion that came to her was so sudden that it caught her unaware. In all those months, more than a year already since she had made Artos leave the Water Gardens, she had been sleeping alone. To her surprise, it had been easier than she had expected. Amazing how one's perspective changes along with circumstances, she thought. The very thought of losing Alric had made the idea of an empty bed for a few months look like a minor nuisance. She wanted him in her bed and life, would never be happy without that.

In his current mood, tired and disappointed because he had just spent another couple of months doing something others would try to undo almost immediately, he could be easily seduced. Arianne knew the subtle signs telling her that in this moment, he was particularly vulnerable to his attraction to her. But it would not solve anything in the long term. She kept rubbing, suddenly startled by just how much this aspect of their marriage – taking care of him like any ordinary wife would – appealed to her more than the balance of power that was always slanted in her favour. We could have been happy even if he was the one with the power, she thought and smiled.

"Come to bed," Alric said after a while, sleepily; without saying anything, Arianne did so, blowing the candle off, surprised and elated when he drew her close without thinking. Before, he had always tried to keep to his side of the bed, no matter where they ended up in their sleep. "I've missed you," he murmured as she cuddled up to him.

He's never been the one for loneliness either. Deep inside, they were both creatures who longed closeness. They could achieve it physically with many others; but the emotional closeness, the one that filled their hearts to the brim they could only find in each other. And that made physical contact even more fulfilling.

"Go to sleep," she said. "You need some rest. I am relieving you of any major duties for the next month."

He laughed softly. "I've been doing nothing but resting for six months. Seven, almost."

"This wasn't rest."

Only Alric would consider the months he had spent fighting to recover his health rest. And he still hadn't achieved that entirely.

"Whatever," she replied, making herself more comfortable against his chest. "You won't be doing anything exacting until you can sweep both Elia and Oberyn in your arms without feeling pain."

"Damned woman," he mumbled but without real anger. His lids were growing heavy. Soon, he slept.

The fever came back this night. Arianne was not surprised since it presented often when he was tired and in low spirits. The first time she had witnessed it, in the night after he returned for the Council Session, she had been desperately scared but with time, she had come to realize that as excruciating as they were to him – they were excruciating to her as well, - those spells did not pose any danger to him in the long run. Tonight, she didn't even think of summoning Maester Caleotte – she already knew that maesters couldn't do a thing for Alric, save for giving him milk of poppy or vinsonge that would made him sleep for the night and the next day, with the fever coming back the following night anyway. It was better just to let it run its course and be done with.

Through his fits of shivering and burning, Arianne had come to be reminded of the worst periods in their lives, their children's deaths, the Black Wedding that had ended up with the bride, Alric's own sister, being brutally raped in full view of hundreds, and Naeryn's birth amidst a storm of rumours and fears, their constant fight with those who sought to undermine them. She came to know the Stepstones, too, the brutality of the pirates, brutality that had stunned even Alric, never an easy one to shake. She realized the extent to which she had hurt him. In the daylight, he could rationally explain it all with the logic of mere human failings – the Seven knew that they both have their fair share of those! In the fire of his fever, though, reason left him, leaving only emotions and betrayed trust, and the angry fear that he would not be enough for her, that what they had shared for so long would turn out to be insufficient. She heard of his regrets of being unable to help those he loved most…

As she always did, Arianne drew his head to her breast, held him tight and whispered until her voice grew hoarse of sunlight and smooth sea, of nourishing rivers and rich harvests, of love and certainty, and even of a future when learned men could make hands for little girls who had been born without ones.

When the dawn started turning their bedchamber into a huge pale-pink rose, Alric woke up, white and weak, but lucid. "It's been a hard night for you," he breathed. "I am sorry."

She smiled a little. "It's been harder for you," she replied. "Do you want something? Some water, perhaps?"

He shook his head. "No," he said hoarsely. "Just stay here."

She rose on her elbow, one hand on his waist, and looked at him steadily, thoroughly. A faint note of sadness rose in her heart. In the morning light, she could see the pale outlines of a future, the boy she had known and loved all her life grown to a man and headed for old age. His skin was still smooth and olive but she could see the hint of lines that, in a few years, would become visible to everyone. His eyes were not as clear at waking up as they had used to be, even without the fever. He was strong and skilled still but now it demanded more effort. Arianne drew a finger across his cheek. She could not pretend that the fire burning between them had not faded a little but there was life, a history that only grew with the passing of years. She did not want anyone else in her bed, not when it meant she could lose him.

Alric immediately felt the change in her mood, tried to rise and failed when she brought his hand to her lips. "I want to stay here," she said, looking him in the eye. "But I want you to stay here, too, my love, not run away from me. For how long are you going to punish me… and yourself?"

She saw the inner fight writ on his face and ended it before he had the chance to: she leaned over and pressed her lips to his. After a moment of hesitation, he gave her the reply she hoped he would, without uttering a word.

After, she curled up against him, felt his hand stroking the hair from her cheek. She hadn't felt so content since before he had left for the Stepstones, before she had met the boy she now wished she had never laid her eyes upon.

"Is what we have so insignificant that you felt the need to bring others into our lives?" his voice came, soft and subdued.

She pressed his hand against her back. "There was never anyone else, Alric."

His palm tightened a little against her temple. "And the Reach boy?"

She sighed. "That was a failing, I'll give you that. But it was a failing in judgment, not a failing in feelings. You have no idea how often I curse the day I first laid eyes on him. He was never a threat to you in any respect, my love, you must believe me…"

A long silence followed but it was not an uncomfortable one. Guilt, flaws and failings flew like a river, heavy and clotted but running anyway. Crawling, maybe. He held her closer. "We've made a mull of it, haven't we?" he finally spoke.

She rubbed her face against his skin, licked a drop of sweat. The smell of him was so familiar and comforting. "I'd say so," she agreed. "So what? How are we going to proceed from now on? I found out that the idea of sharing you has started… bothering me."

He laughed, detecting the faint trace of disdain in her voice. "You won't have to," he said. "Ever. But I am warning you, Arianne, you'll have to keep to one bed, too."

She drew back to give him an incredulous look. "I have!" she exclaimed. "While you haven't, I can bet on it."

Alric shook his head dismissively. "It doesn't count," he said. "You did it only to draw me back. But I'll keep you to your promise from now on. One bed, Arianne. No matter how long we're apart. I want you to consider carefully before answering. Can you do this?"

She didn't need to consider at all. "As long as this bed is yours," she said.

They stared at each other as if they saw each other's face for first time. Then, they reached for each other once again and let the morning light wash away any guilt, any fear, anything but the newfound feeling of belonging.

The End