Suns and Stars Both Light the Way
Chapter 8
Elia's first reaction was anger. "No," she said flatly. "I'm not going."
Edric's hands stopped on her hair, the silver brush still in his hands. "Let's talk about it later, shall we?"
"There's nothing to talk about," Elia snapped. "I'm not going and that's it!"
Had Edric been in better state of mind, he might have left this one unanswered. Elia would go. After all, what other choice did she have? But he had had hard time dealing with the recent unexplained pollution of the Torrentine which had turned the Starfall shores into a land of dead fish and badly influenced the fishing villages. New men had arrived from King's Landing insisting on reexamining some of the conditions about Dorne joining the realm a hundred years ago and like everyone else, the Daynes were not happy. In the aftermath of the change of dynasty, brigands had abounded on both sides of the Dornish Marches, with each side blaming the other one. His headaches had started coming increasingly often and with increasing strength. He was not in the right mood to indulge Elia's pride", as hurt as it was. "In case you haven't noticed," he said, "this is the wedding of the King to whom you swore allegiance not so long ago. You even received a personal invitation. Everyone of importance will be there, both rebels like Eddard Stark and loyalists like the future Queen's kin… and you."
Elia turned back to look at him without saying anything. In a few hours, she might give the matter another thought but right now, it was simply not possible. She had been supposed to be the Queen one day and she had seen it slip from her twice over, first for Lyanna Stark and now for Mina Tyrell. It was too much for any lady to bear… without flinching.
"Let's go to bed," she said, although she knew that tonight, he'd be of no use to her in this regard. Or rather, he could only make it better by holding her. They were both too tired for anything else. They could sleep all night and day long…
When they were roused by their sleep, the marked candle showed that only one hour had passed since their going to bed. Elia stumbled down corridors that had suddenly become much longer than she remembered them, wondering what had gotten into Oberyn to summon them this way. At least he could have done them the courtesy to come to their chambers, instead of sending for them! Next to her, Edric murmured, "If this is the time he's chosen to let us know he's leaving for Sothyros, I will…"
But it turned out that Oberyn was not the brother who had summoned them to his chambers, although he was in attendance all right. Doran didn't bother to rise from his seat. The dark shadows spreading under his eyes positively looked like bags now.
"Well," Arthur said from the window where he was staring out into the darkness. "They're here now. May we summon him already?"
"You look embarrassingly enthused to meet your onetime brother and hear about all Rhaegar has been up to," Oberyn said. "Could it be that you're having second thoughts now and serving the Targaryens once again has become more enticing than Lady Myriah's charms?"
"Oh, do shut up!" Arthur snapped. "I mean, sully me all you want but don't you dare bring Myriah in this! I… oh why do I even pay any attention to you, I don't know."
Once, the tremendous differences between Arthur and Oberyn in almost everything had been offset by the things that had brought them together. Elia hoped that one day, the good things would prevail but this far, there was no indication of this happening.
"What's going on?" she asked. "Rhaegar has sent someone? A Kingsguard?" To her shame, she felt the rising of panic. Undoubtedly, this was because of the late hour and the fact that they had gathered here in semi-darkness like a bunch of traitors but even so, Elia had to remind her that in her brother's castle, in the main city of Dorne, she was safe. The shadows rising from the changing play of lights resembled uncannily the rising and crawling of a court moved only by the whims of a madman. She looked at Arthur and wondered if he felt it too. Was this why he kept his face turned away?
"Ser Oswell," Doran replied. "I have to admit that I was quite shocked when Hotah told me that he asked for an audience. I even asked Ser Arthur to identify him."
"He did?" For a moment of madness, Elia wondered if Arthur had given himself to another betrayal. Even Rhaegar could not be this mad… well, she had once thought the same about Aerys.
Caution was her friend, though, so she appreciated the fact that there was nothing noteworthy about Set Oswell Whent's entrance. By the Seven, it really was Ser Oswell. He looked wary as he bowed to Doran and in the way he avoided meeting her eye as soon as he realized she was in the hall made her think he looked ashamed. Uncharitably, she wondered if it would have been the case if Rhaegar had not been asking something from her House.
"I thought I'd be talking to you alone, Prince Doran," he said and Doran raised an eyebrow.
"Was this your master's order? Not so long ago, Rhaegar Targaryen considered everything between himself and Dorne my sister's business. I understand he's doing his best to forget that he has two children here that he treated monstrously but this is no reason for me to learn by his example… and you can quote me word for word. Elia is staying."
"My offer was meant for your ears alone," the Kingsguard insisted and Elia smiled disdainfully when she realized that Doran's ears alone clearly meant not in Elia's hearing. The man certainly was not disturbed by Oberyn and even Arthur's presence, although she had seen him give Arthur more than one secret look of intense dislike that Arthur returned heartily. Only Elia and Edric made him feel uncomfortable.
"This is very unfortunate," Doran said. "I'm sorry that you've traveled so far to no avail but…"
"Don't waste your regrets," Elia said sharply. "Ser Oswell is well accustomed to span long distances no matter where Rhaegar's will sends him. He'll be fine."
"Indeed," her brother agreed. "So, we're done here."
"Wait for a moment," Ser Oswell said when Areo Hotah approached to escort him outside. Next to the breadth of Hotah's shoulders, Oswell looked like a green boy. Hotah could put all men Elia had seen to shame.
Doran nodded and Ser Oswell drew a deep breath and started again. "My lord, the Prince of Dragonstone, regret the sad circumstances that drew a divide between Dorne and himself."
Elia's mouth fell and Edric cursed under his breath. Even Doran looked stunned by the Rhaegar's gall but he did not interrupt. Ser Oswell went on, as if he was eager to say it and put an end to this humiliation. "Now, in the trials that he faces, he remembers the greatness that Westeros achieved once with Dorne's peace and later inclusion in the realm."
I doubt that he thought about this as he fucked his Northern thing, Elia thought and actually felt regret for Ser Oswell for being forced to repeat such nonsense.
"For the good of Westeros, the men who usurped the Crown and the realm should be put in their place."
"And good King Aerys restored on his throne?" Doran asked pleasantly. "Is this what Rhaegar Targaryen aspires to our help now?"
The Kingsguard shook his head. "It's more… complicated. But I assure you he fully intends to remedy the insult he involuntarily gave Dorne and House Martell."
"Would he have still intended it if he had won?" Oberyn put in. "Why, oh why do I doubt it?"
"House Targaryen still has allies," Oswell said and Doran huffed.
"Allies? What allies? Second-tier Houses, or has he fallen onto third? Because even House Tyrell is preparing to celebrate the peak of their might, with a marriage. When House Targaryen refused them one, I might add. Prince Rhaegar's grandparents were as eager to give insults and break word as he himself is."
"There is still support and…"
"Not unless your master somehow manages to convince Eddard Stark to turn his back on his friend and throw his support behind his sister's so called husband, there isn't."
Ser Oswell blushed.
"So, what does he offer in exchange for our help?" Oberyn asked, giving voice to Elia's own curiosity.
"A throne. Lady Rhaenys will be wed to his heir and…"
Elia jumped to her feet and extended a shaking hand towards him. With voice made hoarse and animalistic by horror, disgust, and disbelief, she snapped, "Off! Off with you!"
Doran, though, kept his composure. "So, how does he guarantee that he'd keep his word after he's done using Dorne's spears?" he inquired mildly. "He'd give us his word that he won't break his word? It would be useless. We know how much his word is worth. And his son gives us even less reason to be trusting. The boy is his father and mother's son. How do we know he won't throw my niece away after he decides that she's of no use to him anymore, like Rhaegar Targaryen did to Elia after ruining her health to get heirs from her, only to bastardize them? How is the Faith supposed to accept a bastard queen anyway?"
Ser Oswell's flush deepened. It was clear that he wished to be anywhere but here. "They will keep their word," he said. "Princess Rhaenys will be Queen."
At her brother's expense, Elia thought, her anger so fierce that she imagined it as an extension of the fire in the fireplace. Another flame. Did Rhaegar think they would fall at his feet out of gratitude for this, even if they believed in his integrity? For which time?
"You mean Rhaenys Sand, I suppose?" Edric asked. "Since when did she become Princess Rhaenys? What does Queen Lyanna have to say about this sudden demotion to Lyanna the Whore?"
Oswell looked really lost in the conundrum that his mission had put him in, Elia noticed with satisfaction. Doran looked at her and she shook her head no. He nodded, visibly relieved.
"I'm afraid out answer is no. It won't change," he said. "We're no more eager to fight for Lyanna Stark and her son than we were the last time and I can't imagine what might have made Rhaegar think we have reconsidered."
"Perhaps you'll have some better luck with Lord Stark," Edric said in mocking reassurance and his hand squeezed Elia's as she once again came to realize just how little value Rhaegar put on his family with her if he was willing to send a man to House Martell when everyone knew that they were not trusted and how precarious was the situation that her children inhabited.
She'd better start picking some outfits for the journey. She had a royal wedding to attend, it seemed.
The impossible happened. Peace. Once, Elia had thought she would never know it but now, she discovered the beauty of it every day – in the sun of her own land, in the blue waves chasing waves, in the song of the Torrentine and the sleepy smiles of her children as she entered the nursery every night to say good night. In Edric's eyes as he looked at her from the other side of a board game or raised the oar of the small boat that took them up and up the Torrentine. Sometimes, they picked Larra from Blackmont, together with her husband, and the four of them traveled further up, to the very source of the fierce river and drops of sweet water sparkled like diamonds on dark hair and olive skin.
Arthur and Myriah visited often and then, rowing upstream often turned into a competition of three boats driven by three men. Four when Aemon Estermont and Ashara had a mind to accompany them. The stormlander was a man of few words but Mother, he knew how to put his strength to action! In the beginning, she had been afraid that he would use this against Ashara…
"No," her friend assured her. "He never does. He prefers to go all silent and sullen. I've never heard him raise his voice at me since the morning he found out I had been a maiden."
Elia had spent her own wedding night in quiet horror that Rhaegar would accuse her straight to her face. It had been a great relief, albeit puzzling, to find out that he was, in fact, unable to tell a maiden from a woman who had given birth. Ashara, on the other hand, had never expected to be accused for keeping her maidenhood despite the filthy rumours clinging to her like her own smallclothes… no, for not telling her lord husband to be that she did not deserve the scorn that he had been holding in.
"If a woman is not punished for not being a maiden, then she's punished because she is," had been Lady Amira's concise comment when her daughter had shared, stunned. She had expected that Aemon would be at least glad. Instead, their row had raged for full two days, the first ones of their marriage.
This wedding was widely regarded as one meant to mend the rift but the ones who followed achieved it even more – without trying to! Elia watched with delight as the unwed men who had come with Aemon Estermont wed Dornish women, to the very last one, and while some of them professed intention to stay true to their lord's purpose of guardian and leave when he did, most of their children bore Dornish names and received Dornish upbringing. And the strict surveillance over Elia and her children slowly lost its edge.
Elia even had Ashara close by, held her hand as she writhed in the birthing bed like Ashara had held hers, rocked her babe to sleep like Ashara had done with hers, and felt that moments like these were as close to perfection as she could wish, even when her womb clenched with the longing to feel a living creature inside. Edric and hers. And it was not happening.
"Perhaps the fault lies with me," he told her in their third year as he watched her watching Ashara's bulging belly. "You cannot know."
Elia stared at him, the irony hitting her worse than Aerys ever had. "I am one of the few who do know," she said. "I won't shift the blame for my barrenness onto you, Edric."
The words came out by sheer instinct, her horror of letting anyone else – him, of all people – to shoulder the burden instead of her overwhelming. She had been so careful not to give us as much as a hint but now, she had all but laid it all out.
One look at him showed her that she needed not to say anything else. He and Arthur had been born with only two years between them and Ashara had followed a few years later. More than fifteen years had elapsed before Allyria's birth, just eight moons after the river had carried him downstream. He must have wondered… Perhaps he had seen something – an expression, a gesture inherited, or the sad envy in Elia's eyes whenever Allyria rushed to Lady Amira with eager face. Now, he held her tight, burying his face in her hair. "Thank you," he breathed.
The next morning, Elia woke before dawn and watched the sun rise. People said that hope came with the light but what she felt was not hope; it was certainty, as rich as the rising rays of sun, and as tremendous as the sea that for a brief, glorious moment they turned into a realm of gold. She knew it deep within her core, could feel it with her very skin and the feeling of being useless and lacking disappeared, as if it had never been there.
Elia already knew that she was with child.
