Rhaella didn't like being back in the Crownlands. While she was thankful to be out of the confining routine she had begun to develop aboard the Plataea, it was somehow even more stifling to travel with the Terras. Lord Kurt had decided that it was necessary to try and hide the true capabilities of their people and had only transported them by the strange air ship where the blackwater rush forked and travelled north to the god's eye. They had 'dropped' as it was put by Jane, into a thick patch of forest nearby under the cover of night and now Rhaella, Elia, Lord Kurt and three hundred of what the spartan lord had called 'alpha-company' had marched up the gold road.
Of course, neither lady was required to walk with the rest of the 'company'. A strange wheelhouse was brought out for them, obviously modelled after the carriages of Westeros, but still different and of such design that Rhaella felt that Lord Kurt had not had it before propriety required he make one for the two ladies.
Rhaella could see Elia, seated across from her, was constantly watching out the window, looking west. She understood her good-daughter's apprehension. Neither woman had been allowed to bring their children. Lord Ambrose had explained it was for security's sake, as no one could infiltrate the Plataea and do them harm, something that he said he could not guarantee on the road to King's Landing. The two royals knew the truth. None of their children had been allowed to join them on this journey, not out of safety, but to ensure their cooperation in abdicating the claims of their children in the Great Council that was being held.
Viserys, Rhaenys and Aegon's rightful claims to the Iron Throne were going to be set aside in exchange for their continued survival. It was a distressing sacrifice, for it meant for Rhaella, giving up a throne that her family had held. Through conquest and cruelty, through infighting, civil war, and outright rebellions, House Targaryen had held strong and endured. Now she was going to hand over the throne her family had forged to another, even if Robert did carry their blood through a member who's name, she all but shared.
Perhaps for Elia it was a lesser loss, considering that her children would likely remain prince and princess of Dorne even though they would lose the chance to sit the Iron Throne.
'Then again.' Rhaella thought, considering her son's first wife. 'It would not be the first time Dorne has risen against the will of the other kingdoms.'
There was always the possibility that Dorne would see the dismissal of Elia's children's claims as unlawful, given the circumstances. If Lord Ambrose truly upheld his bargain and released Elia and her children back to the south, how long might it be before the forces of Dorne rose from their deserts and struck. Aegon himself had almost died to blades and assassins sent from the southernmost kingdom, and poison was a weapon the Dornish knew well.
Her eyes roamed across the three hundred men and women who marched outside the wheelhouse. Though she and Elia were some of the only people who were not marching, even Lord Ambrose it seemed did not sit a horse. There were still large crates of items, made of metal it seemed, that were being driven by strange carriages without horses.
She wondered. Against the cunning of Dorne, how well would the House of Terra stand. Given their assault on the Red Keep, and the security of the Plataea even with its size, she doubted that any assassin would be able to get the drop on them.
As the day wore on, and camp was made for the night, Rhaella found herself seated on a small camp chair. Tents had been set up, pulled from the packs of the various groups of spartans, and a foodstuffs had been handed out amongst the assembled force. Rhaella and Elia had been handed plates with what looked like descent meals placed on them, though they were less than those that a royal entourage would normally serve to a queen and a princess, to say nothing of the food they had sampled aboard the Plataea. Nevertheless, it was far from the worst thing that Rhaella had ever eaten, and it seemed that the same could be said of Elia as the two women promptly partook and emptied their plates, receiving second helpings from the spartans that sat around them.
Ser Shane and Ser Robert sat on a set of folded chairs across from them, while Jane stayed close to Rhaella's side. Lord Kurt it seemed, preferred to spend his time weaving about the different groups of spartans. Eating with them, speaking to them, he spent an amount of time with each and every one of them.
Rhaella watched the man move, trying to get more of a sense of who it was that she was supposed to marry. The thought still made her shudder in fear. The phantom fingers of Aerys' touch, his terrible abuse of her body, still making her tremble. Of course, some part of her was disappointed in herself. After all, how was she supposed to do her duties as his wife if she could barely think of the act without threatening to tear up?
Rhaella went to wipe the tears from her eyes, but found her hands held tightly, Elia had taken her right hand, grasping it in her own and rubbing her thumb over the back, much like Rhaella herself had done to the girl during the troubling times of her marriage to Rhaegar.
Her left hand was also being held in a comforting grasp, but this time it was Jane who had offered her comfort.
"Rhaella." Elia asked, looking concerned.
The former queen tried to hide the panic in her face behind a kind smile, the same one she had practiced for years to offer any that tried to speak of the unhappiness of her union with Aerys. The fewer who knew of her condition in the court, the fewer would speak or worry about it and risk drawing the ire of her brother.
Of course, she knew that Aerys' wrath was no longer anything to fear, but still that reflex was there. Wearing that mask to try and fool all those around her. To show them the front that she was well, that she was not broken by the horrible things that Aerys had done to her. Most of all, she remembered hearing from her septa about the fates of women outside the walls of the Red Keep. Whores and serving maids raped by men and given naught but a stag or a dragon for their pain, living without all the luxury of her life as a princess and then as a queen. Why should she complain about a cruel husband, even one as cruel as Aerys, when others suffered so much more without the comforts that she was afforded every day?
"Don't worry for me, my lovely." She gave the Dornish princess what she thought was a reassuring smile, though the worry in Elia's face did not lessen.
"I must admit. I am disappointed in myself. Three-hundred years of rule, and it is I who am giving up the throne my family forged."
Elia's eyes seemed to dawn with something akin to realisation, after all, though she was giving up the same title on her own behalf and that of her children, it did not have quite the same significance for the Martell princess as it did to the Targaryen queen.
"I'm sorry." She said, trying perhaps to whisper it across without being heard, but such an endeavour was futile with the spartans around them, much less with Jane sitting right next to Rhaella.
"Why should you apologise my love?" Rhaella asked, rubbing her thumb over the top of Elia's hand. "None of this is your fault."
Neither spoke after that, neither had to. Ser Shane and Robert had stopped whatever quiet conversation they had engaged in and turned to them, and Jane seemed to distance herself slightly from Rhaella. Inside, a small, vengeful part of the queen relished the feeling of guilt that she hoped pricked the cold heart of her spartan captors, despite that one of them was her friend. She had still not forgiven Jane, not with the knowledge that it was her plan that had resulted in the death of her son.
No matter his flaws, and she was not so blind to ignore them, Rhaegar had been her son. She had birthed him amongst the fires and smoke of Summerhall's burning. She had raised him as best she could as Aerys descended further and further into madness and paranoia. She had helped care for his own children when Elia had been sick with fever after birthing Rhaenys and Aegon, and when Ashara was coping with the consequences of her own pregnancy. Jane had been there throughout the last few years, and Rhaella silently wondered how hard it had been for the woman to order the death of her child.
Rhaella and Elia's moment of silent mourning was broken, not by any noise from the other fires and tents. The spartans of House Terra were a composed, sombre bunch it seemed, and rarely did their conversations rise loud enough to disturb any other. No, instead what peace seemed to settle over their group was broken by the return of Lord Kurt. The tall man moved around the group without pause, not seeming for a moment as if he was not absolutely supposed to be where he was.
Rhaella had rarely ever seen that kind of confidence, and most times, it had been in men so caught up in their own self-importance that it usually appeared more as arrogance. Lord Kurt on the other hand, moved as if there was no question to the purpose of his stride. Most men puffed themselves up, tried to walk as if every step was of the utmost importance to everyone around them. The spartan lord seemed instead to walk as if everything he did was a matter of life and death, no matter what he was doing, there was an importance in it that looked effortless, as if the man did not even try.
No matter how much Rhaella tried to dissect the man, everything she saw both revealed something new, and revealed nothing at all. Lord Ambrose was a man of certainty. Everything he did, it seemed to her if he knew exactly how it would occur. Nothing could or would stop him. He didn't use the booming voice that Tywin did when he demanded action, or even the cold condescension that the old lion employed when he was dealing with someone particularly obstinate. Instead, his voice was at times, almost soft. A whisper on the wind, but as certain as the coming of winter that the Starks always spoke of. She could image that a thousand women, married or not, would happily spread their legs for him and bare his children. Yet he wanted her. Of course, she knew why he wanted her. She was a queen, a valuable piece that had a part to play in his schemes and those of Tywin, but even as she tried to console herself with the knowledge that her coming marriage was entirely a political one, she couldn't help but remember how her last marriage of politics had ended.
Looking up from her food, she saw that Lord Ambrose had his eyes on her. She fidgeted under his gaze, wondering what the man might be thinking.
"Wolfpack." Kurt said. "Take Princess Elia over to Charlie's fire. I will be having a discussion with the queen."
Ser Shane and Ser Robert immediately got up, with Jane following after only a moment of hesitation to look over Rhaella. The queen herself seemed pensive, looking uncomfortable over the idea of spending time alone with the man.
"Sir." Said Jane. "With all due respect, the psychological profile compiled indicates that perhaps solitary interaction with the opposite sex might not be best for Rhaella's health."
The queen had no idea what a 'psychological profile' was, but she understood the rest of what Jane was saying enough to be thankful. Lord Kurt had been nothing but courteous to her, with the sole exception of her family's abduction and their initial discussion of her future. However, true to Jane's words, the thought of being alone with the man who was to be her husband, especially after Aerys, sent shivers up her spine.
"I understand. However, there are some things that Lady Rhaella and I will need to discuss about future events."
Jane glanced between the two, obeying her lord without any further objection. However, she seemed more hesitant to follow her fellows and Elia, stopping and looking back at the pair every now and again and even watching them from the other fire for a while until her attention was drawn by the others sitting around it.
"I'm impressed Lady Rhaella." The queen turned to watch Kurt, who had kept his eyes on Jane the same as her.
"My lord?"
"Jane is perhaps the greatest spartan of her company, and one of the most dedicated. I'm unsure whether your interactions with her had a political motivation, but she seems attached to you."
It made Rhaella sound like a pet, something for Jane to dote on, but ultimately unable to pull her from her duties. Rhaella shoved the thought aside. Jane considered her a friend, even after what had happened, and though the queen would likely not forgive her for her part in the death of her son any time soon, it was a strange feeling to also be grateful to her for sparing the rest of her family.
"My apologies then my lord, I did not mean to lure one of yours away from their duty."
"Think nothing of it my lady, though if the thought of Jane in particular being your guard bothers you, I can have another of my children assigned."
That threw Rhaella off, Lord Kurt had up until that point referred to the spartans as his men or as his soldiers, but children? The former queen thought to what Jane had said about the how many spartans there were. 'Three hundred of them in just her company', she had told Rhaella. Surely Lord Kurt had not fathered them all.
"Your children?" She asked, hoping beyond hope that she was not marrying a man who was more prone to siring bastards than even the unworthy.
Apparently, her shock, and mild terror, showed on her face because Lord Kurt only laughed lightly.
"Indeed." He looked at the other campfires, the hundreds of spartans that sat around them.
"Each and every one of them had lost everything. Orphans of war to the last."
Rhaella felt the fear in her stomach shift, draining away as she listened to the man.
"I took them in. At least, I was given the opportunity to, and I trained them. I gave them the choice to become spartans."
Rhaella wondered why the man had become so sombre as he spoke of his spartans, his children, she corrected. It was a good thing that he had done, as far as she could tell.
"And Viserys?" She asked.
Perhaps it was not the best time to begin this conversation, only days away from King's Landing where she and Elia would be abdicating the claims of their children on their behalf. Then again, after that, neither she nor Elia would have any official political power as members of house Targaryen. Of course, there were still many loyalist houses, and Elia and her children would still be princesses and a prince of Dorne. She and her children would be little more than hostages to the spartans and the Lannisters. If she could leverage some of Lord Kurt's apparent love of taking in unfortunate children, she could perhaps get him to at least treat the Viserys well, to say nothing of the child she was reasonably sure she was carrying, and who she had told no one about quite yet.
"He will be treated to the best of our hospitality." Kurt said, trying to sound assuring and comforting, to some success as Rhaella relaxed slightly. "As for the child you are currently carrying, I assure you that as long as you abdicate their claim as well as Viserys' at the council, they will be fully taken care of, and should they be born in the Plataea, as we hope it will be, they will be given the name of Terra the same as Lady Ashara's son and any other child born in our home."
Rhaella felt a chill pass through her as Lord Kurt spoke of her child. She had tried to bring no attention to it. Of course, she knew that she could not keep it a secret forever, but at the very least she had hoped that she could keep it a secret until after their wedding. A terrible thing to do it might be, but perhaps if it was soon enough and they fulfilled their duties as husband and wife she could convince him that this child was his.
Now it seemed that that plan, unlikely though it might have been, had be fully undone. She wondered now what form the normally mild lord's fury would take, after all, hiding a pregnancy with another man's child when she was engaged to be married was a terrible offence for a woman to commit. Of course, she had been married to another man when she had conceived this child with him, and her current future husband had been directly responsible for the death of her last one.
The fury that she was expecting never came. Lord Kurt only offered her a kind smile, as if he truly didn't mind her attempted deception
"My lady, I can hardly fault you for attempting to do what is best for your children. After all, I have done terrible things to assure the safety of mine."
Rhaella's gaze flickered over to the nearest campfire, where Jane was seated next to Ser Robert and Ser Shane. The woman's eyes flickered over to her for a moment before it was brought back to the group, and she shared a smile with another of the spartans.
"Let me assure you though, my lady." He said, drawing her attention back to him. "I have no intention to harm you, so long as we are honest and clear with each other. Should we complete this rather unsavoury business and get around to saying our vows, you will have the full protection and support of my people and I."
Rhaella wasn't sure what to say to that, until she reminded herself that all of this was dependent on her marrying him, and likely sharing his bed. The idea made her shiver in fear and disgust. Not because Lord Kurt was in any way unattractive to her physically. No, she would have to be blind and mad as Aerys to fine him undesirable. He was tall, muscled like a maiden's dream, a kind man by all accounts, with the noticeable exception of her outright detachment when dealing with matters of military nature.
"I understand that there are expectations surrounding the fulfilment of those oaths, and I also understand that you have several, reasonable aversions to them. Rest assured, that until you desire it, I will make no attempt to pressure you into sharing my bed."
That was a rather shocking revelations for the former queen. She was, to be somewhat vain, a beautiful woman. Silvery hair and purple eyes, the very picture of Valyrian beauty. Many a man, in fact most men, had looked at her with desire. Yet as she thought back over their time together since they had met, from the visits to the Red Keep, her time on the Plataea, Lord Kurt had not once levelled a look of lust at her. Fighting the relief, Rhaella needed to be sure, to be as certain as she could be that her future husband was speaking to her truthfully.
"And if I never wish to come to your bed, my lord?"
"Then you will not ever have to." He replied instantly. "You will be given your own rooms in the Plataea, as will Viserys and your future child, and unless you desire it you will have to see no more of me than is required for public appearances mandated by the local political authorities."
Rhaella was almost relieved when he said that they might still need to make public appearances as a couple. For a moment, it seemed almost a dream that her future husband would expect nothing from in the way of sexual contact. Perhaps it was odd, but to know that he was not fully allowing her to cut herself from him made his earlier allowances more real.
"And you, my lord?" She asked, a new worry blooming in her chest. After all, men with wives who did not share their beds often found women of the household soon bearing the husband's bastards.
"Me?" He asked, looking at her curiously.
"Please do not think me a fool my lord." Rhaella said. "If I do not take to your bed, how long will it be before a woman will come forwards, presenting the child you have given her?"
Lord Kurt seemed almost shocked, the widening of his eyes and pause in his speech the closest to true surprise she had ever seem from the man.
"My lady." Lord Kurt leaned forwards. "I hope that in the time that we have known each other, I have given you no reason to think I would stray beyond the woman I have promised myself to. Our union might be one purely of politics, but please believe me when I tell you that any reluctance to engage in sexual activity, on either of our parts, does not mean I will look outside that pledge to find it."
He sat back on the log.
"If it might settle your worry about me bringing others into my bed, I can inform you that I've yet to engage in anything sexual in my life."
"Please my lord. I thought we agreed to be honest with each other."
"I am, my lady."
"And you expect me to believe that you've never taken anyone into your bed, not entered anyone else's? Not once?"
"Not ever."
Rhaella wanted to call him a liar, after all, Lord Kurt was a handsome man, the very picture of a maiden's dream, and seemed for all the world like the most understanding of men any woman could dream to wed. But Rhaella knew that things that seemed a dream, were often anything but. Still, nothing in the man's face told her he was telling a lie. In fact, based on what she knew of him, Lord Kurt's words were without falsehood when he promised her both that he would not stray from her, and that he had never before in his life engaged in carnal acts.
"You are not lying to me? Truly?"
Lord Kurt smiled.
"Of course not, my lady. After all, we promised to be honest, did we not?"