281 AC

Ellia I

"For what does the caged bird sing"

"Whose music through our ears does ring."

Ellia used her index finger to rub around her son's eyes. The babe, only a few weeks into the new world, had proved a fussy thing. At times, he would refuse to fall asleep. Yet she had found that to calm her son, she merely needed to run her fingers around his eyes gently. It would take a few moments, but eventually, Aegon could not keep his eyes open, and would drift off to his dreams. It perhaps relaxed the headaches the boy was having. If so, Ellia wished it would work for her, as her head was currently throbbing from one of her constant headaches as well. A cruel gift of blood she had given her child perhaps…

"For some love that she hath lost."

"Or a…hmmm."

As her son's breathing softened, she looked over at her husband. In his right hand was a worn down harp, the ends of the strings fraying slightly as they wrapped around the . It was quite small all things considered, even for a hand harp, with the top having a carved dragon upon it. One with purple scales and large frog-like eyes, and little wings far too small even for its puny body to fly. Had Balerion looked like that, Ellia imagined that Harren the Black would have died laughing before Aegon the Conqueror ever had the chance to burn Harrenhal.

The silver haired man rubbed his hand over the body of the dragon, and then set the harp down back inside the chest he had been leaning on, before pushing the drawer back in. It had been his harp for his entire life, and was something of a treasure of a better life for her husband, one of the many little "imperfections" that she found so endearing in her strange, beautiful husband.

"I shall…finish it soon," Rhaegar Targaryen looked back at her. Ellia almost laughed to herself as she saw him rub his chin. Her husband was a man of music, but she honestly couldn't remember a time he had actually completed a song. He was always being pulled away by some new thought that would lead him down a road with a completely different destination from the one he had started. Of course, that meant, when he did set about moving something to completion, it was almost certainly something he thought was truly important. The child in her arms was proof enough of what he could do when he put his mind to something.

He, in his usual, stilted manner, moved over to her, a slightly cautious gait as he came up around her side, and placed his right arm around her shoulder, and looked down at her fingers as they traced their son's eyes. With her behind him, she could not see him, but she could imagine the mix of awe and curiosity that he had whenever he looked at their son.

It was a bit different than Rhaenys. He had the usual look of melancholic affection whenever he looked upon their daughter, the one he had with almost everyone that he was close to, whether it was his friends, his colleagues, or Ellia herself. But with Aegon, Rhaegar looked up on him, and was almost struck dumb with wonder. He had, since the day she had handed their son to him, referred to Aegon as "The Prince who was Promised."

"He looks so much like you," he said, rubbing his hand on her shoulder. Ellia nodded. Her son had darker hair and skin than Rhaenys, and while his eyes could appear purple in the right light, they were mostly mistaken for brown by those who saw it. Ellia adored that her husband was most entranced by their child that most resembled her, and not him.

That had not been shared by his father.

Aerys II had never failed to remind her that she was a "parasite". That she had latched onto the great dragon of the Targaryen dynasty, and sucked away the glory and prestige that was not rightfully hers. He had often refused to allow Rhaenys in his presence, declaring that she had "smelled" Dornish.

'There are moments I wish Oberyn was here,' she considered for a moment, 'Only to remember it would likely be a death sentence for him,' she considered how easily her younger brother would lose control and try and kill Aerys. The king was well protected, and in the likely outcome of his survival, would try and be rid of Ellia and her children, 'If he declared Rhaenys, a girl with silver hair and violet eyes Dornish," she rubbed her hand through the brown curls of her boy, 'He might declare this one a bastard. A trick from the Dance.'

"Let's lay him down," she said, walking across the room before finally resting their son in his cradle. She stood back up, as she looked down, before calmly moving her eyes to the door. It had been closed, so only the Kingsguard was outside. She, however, hadn't been out all day, and hadn't seen which knight was standing guard over this nursery. The rotation was not public, but Rheagar had seen the knight.

Rhaegar raised his hands to his head and made a flapping motion. Ellia smiled at that

'Oswell,' nowhere the greatest knight of the guard, but one of the three that Rhaegar knew would join his side in the coming conflict with his father. She should have known, he was the only one of the three who was allowed to regularly serve as a constant guard for her. Uncle Lewyn was never allowed anywhere near her or her family, and Arthur was almost never allowed in the Red Keep itself at all.

Ellia moved backwards, before turning slowly, and grabbing the shutters on one of the windows of the nursery, "I think air is inflaming my headache. I need to sit down. And since young Aegon also gets these aches, it might be best to close them so it does not cause his to grow worse. Can't let him take ill."

"Of course," Rhaegar said, reaching over at the other set of windows, and closing the shutters of those, "cannot risk the baby becoming sick with anything."

'Can't risk it because of me,' she thought bitterly. The reason she had not left the nursery, indeed why she remained here rather than rejoin her husband in their marital bed, was her weak constitution. It was why there were rumors going around of her son possibly becoming sick and dying. It was why she would need to lay down soon after this, and allow her maids to tend to her like some withered crone.

'It was why I will have to accept that my husband's needed third child will have to come from a different womb.'

"The Tourney shall be quite exciting," she offered, pushing her tired feet towards the bed where she had given birth not two months earlier. She had become used to lying in it for days on end, and she hoped that soon her body would be ready for a more active lifestyle, "Lord Whent says it shall be in three months?"

"Four months," Rhaegar answered quickly, "Do not wish it too soon my sweet, the few more weeks shall allow you to be healthy for it. With Spring announced so soon, and with the tourney being so large, it shall take time for all to gather in Harrenhal. It shall allow us to see your siblings."

"Most likely only Oberyn," she thought of her little brother, "He is infected with many lusts, and travel happens to be the least problematic of them."

"I know," Rhaegar had been accepting of Oberyn's…whimsies. However, he had also been impervious to Oberyn's charms. When Oberyn had been regaling him with one of his adventures in Lys, one with just enough innuendo to hide exactly what her rather…promiscuous brother had actually been getting up to. However, only just, and Ellia had been able to tell that every noble in that room had been utterly scandalized by the conversation, as Oberyn had only used the thinnest of cover over his words to hide exactly what he had been doing in the Pillow Houses of Lys.

All except Rheagar of course. Rhaegar had only given him a blank stare, and then he blankly added that he had heard that Lys was particularly famous for a style of shellfish dish with a spicy herb, and if he had had any. Oberyn had said he had not, and then Rhaegar had said "oh," and then walked away to go speak with Arthur Dayne, leaving Oberyn in the middle of the room, alone.

Oberyn would never forgive her husband for it.

Ellia rubbed her head, wondering if her headache really had gotten worse thinking of the incident or rather what Oberyn had promised he would do to her husband for the insult. His temper had always run far too hot, even for a Dornish man. It had meant more than once he had been forced to leave his home to avoid trouble his own rashness brought upon his head. Right now he was out after killing a groom from…House Gargalen she believed, after he believed he had been sleeping with his wife. Or perhaps because Oberyn had slept with the groom himself, and had then mocked the poor man for a less than enjoyable experience. She never could tell exactly what was going on during his adventures.

"Yes," Rhaegar continued, "I'm sure your younger brother will be quite the show there. But there will be so many others. We are to meet the Lannister entourage and the newest member of the Kingsguard at the Tourney. Arthur has spoken so highly of young Jamie, and I wish Lord Tywin would make the journey. Still, it shall be large, with Jamie being seen off by his siblings and cousins."

'You had hoped that you could speak to him about him supporting your ascension,' Tywin had been an excellent hand of the King, a master of administration, and a fearsome implementer of the peace. He had also had a very public falling out with Aerys over the past few years, basically everything since the king had been imprisoned and tortured at Dunknedale. Getting him on board for the plot to remove the madman currently on the Iron Throne would hopefully have been simple, 'Though I personally will be glad to not see him. Even as a child staying at the Rock…I always felt frightened by his gaze.'

That, and both Rhaegar and Ellia herself knew that Tywin was furious about Aerys calling for Jamie, Tywin's presumptive heir, to become a member of the Kingsguard. Tywin had been furious about losing his son to a life of chastity and duty, and away from his proper place as the Lord of Casterly Rock. It had been the final of a haybale of straws to push Tywin to resign his post as hand of the king.

Jamie himself was actually a fairly kind boy. Ellia had been a prospective candidate to marry him herself some years back, when she had been at the Rock. He had tried his hardest to be a courteous young man, a proper lord and knight. For a boy that young, it had honestly seemed quite cute to Ellia. He had honestly seemed glad to be inducted into the ranks of the Kingsguard, she thought he rather doubted he had the aptitude to be the same Lord Lannister as his father.

While Ellia thought that was really a far greater insult to Tywin than to Jamie, she did agree that it was more than likely that he wasn't the right man to take that post. Honestly, his sister se-

"The other great families shall be there as well. Jon Aryan will only bring himself, but he will be bringing both his fosters, Eddard Stark, and my own cousin, Robert Baratheon," Rhaegar said, pulling Ellia away from her thoughts, "It shall be nice to see how the Lord of Storm's End is growing. It has been years since I last saw him, when his father still lived. I need to thank him for the service his father gave his life for."

'You hope he will accept a general apology, one that King Aerys never gave,' Ellia remembered that that mission had been to find Rhaegar a proper wife among Volantis, but he had failed died, and they had chosen her, 'Robert is the only Baratheon there, but if you can meet with him, make him the right promises, he could be key when we make our move. Especially if he brings the North through his wife and the Eyrie through Jon Arryn.'

Then, that would be six kingdoms all backing the coup, or at least not fully opposing it. And that would leave only the Reach. And the Tyrells had no special love of Aerys, so with everyone else moving along, they would likely stay out, and allow Rhaegar to take over with as little bloodletting as possible. She remembered the first discussion she had had with her husband a bit after Rhaenys had been born, but when she had wandered past one of the hallways, heard horrific screams coming from a room, but had been kept from entering by Oswell Whent.

'I asked why he stopped me from trying to save my godmother,' her hands still shook, 'and he said "Because the King demands time with his Lady Wife."'

She had slapped Oswell, but only then had realized that the knight had been weeping as he had stood like a statue. She had immediately gone to her husband, who broke up the event, and allowed Queen Rhaella to go free, but Aerys had screamed at his son, screamed that he would kill Oswell for not killing Rhaegar, and then fallen asleep. Rhaella returned to her chamber, but not before delivering Oswell a withering glare.

It would be an hour later, when Rhaella was safe in her own room, and they were gone from Rhaegar, that the two would meet in private and discuss what was to be done. Rhaegar looked Ellia in the eye, after demanding that they remove that monster in the King's body, and said a very simple statement.

"I will not start another Dance," the damage that event, the Dance of the Dragons, had done to the Targaryen Dynasty, had somehow overshadowed even the more recent slaughters of the Blackfyre rebellions in her husband's imagination. The near annihilation of all branches of the dynasty and the eventual extinction of the dragons that were emblazoned on their coat of arms had left them precarious. Without Dragons, afterall, what really separated them from the other houses besides their white hair and purple eyes. Rhaegar would prepare to move against his father, but only when he was absolutely sure it would not lead to a war that could possibly end his dynasty.

So far they had three Kingsguard, Oswell, her uncle Lewyn, and Arthur Dayne. But the last year had been stuck in the Keep, with Ellia's pregnancy and a long winter making major plans difficult, especially with creatures like Varys the Spider looking for secrets, and lickspittles like Symond Stauton and Lucerys Velaryon encouraging Aerys to fall further and further into his wild eccentricities, it would be hard to plan a massive removal without bloodshed.

"But no matter what, Spring shall bring so many new possibilities," Ellia collapsed her hands together as she looked into her husband's eyes. The violet gems that adorned his face seemed to shine with the light from the window.

'New alliances, new friends, and enough power that ultimately Aerys will be dragged down,' she smiled to herself. Rhaegar seemed to have the same idea, placing his lips on her forehead as he pushed her head onto her bed.

"Rest my dear," he said, proudly looking down at her. For all the issues the prince at times had with communicating, he could manage a certain charisma when the moment asked for it, "The mother of the Promised Prince must be in good health. We shall complete our duties as soon as you are healthy," as he turned to leave, he waved his hand, "Oh, would you like to send for your maid?"

"Oh," Ellia giggled, "If I have any idea about her, she will be waiting right outside the door, giving poor Oswell such a talking to."

Rhaegar raised an eyebrow at that, before turning, and opening the door. And as she predicted, standing right before the White clad knight, was another Dornish woman.

She was shorter and younger than Ellia, and she had an undeniable life to her that the older woman lacked, with both childbirth and weaker constitution having robbed Ellia of some of her vitality. Alongside this vitality was a long flowing head of chestnut hair, sparkling gray eyes, and a bosom that was already larger than Ellia's own. This girl appeared in her mid teens, with a bouncy ness in her toes that caused the jug of wine and the hot towels in her hands to move about. Oswell, a bit of a nervous fellow when left on his own, fidgeted as he tried to keep the jug from spilling but also keeping the girl from entering.

"Oh, Prince Rhaegar," the girl chirped, "It is good to see you," she waved the jug around, and nearly caused it to spill, which caused Oswell to push forward to catch it. But the girl righted herself and the jug, and this caused poor Oswell to miss the mark, and slam his head into the side of the door. The girl winced, and then offered, "My apologies Ser Oswell."

"Tis no trifle my lady," Oswell groaned, before righting himself, "I am glad, that you may bring the Princess her things."

"Of course," the girl then turned to Rhaegar, before winking at him, "Anything I should know?"

"Just make sure to keep her company," Rhaegar said flatly, before walking out the door. Oswell quickly closed the door behind the Prince, and left the girl and Ellia in the room alone, as they heard the sounds of knightly armor walking away from the door. The girl's demeanor seemed to fall slightly, before she turned back to Ellia in her bed, and shrugged. But where before, the motion might have caused things to fall, she held the jug and hot cloths in place perfectly. She placed the jug on the nearest table, and then pulled off the first of the cloths. She walked over, and placed it on Ellia's head.

"I swear sister, this city and all these northern prudishness fills me with no end of frustrations," she rubbed it over Ellia's head, allowing Ellia to begin to relax as her headache unraveled from the heat, "Those knights claim to be above the lusts of men, but I know the look upon me. If I could merely, let my hands go inside that white armor of theirs-"

"Oh leave them alone," Ellia groaned, "They have enough trouble with the King. To add you to their list would make them wish for the Wall."

"And speaking of immovable hunks of ice," the girl continued, walking over, and filling a cup with some of the wine, "the problem is, that while I get men who literally will have their cocks and balls ripped off for sex avoiding my offering, your husband will not even look at my cleavage."

"How when he still considers you but a child," Ellia took a cup, and downed it. It was a mix of honey and dreamwine, and thus worked with the heat to end her headache. She let out a sigh of contentment as the sweat liquid swirled down her throat, "You must understand that simply having your neckline low will not cause him to consider you an adult yet."

"Have I not flowered?"

"Yes, yes," Ellia would roll her eyes if the dreamwine weren't already taking effect. SHe could feel her constant pain slowly dissipate, "You man continue to castigate my husband if you wish. Please do try to keep it down though, the baby is sleeping."

"Yes, of course, the baby," the girl scoffed, "The only reason I've started to wear my shirt like this is because you asked. You told me to all but throw myself at your husband, so the least you can do is allow me to share the frustrations of this hunt you have given me."

Ellia knew how important it was for her husband to have his third "Head of the Dragon". She didn't quite get it, it seemed like some song he read in a book, and decided it was more than pretty words. And, as she looked down at her weak body, and cursed the fact that from now on, she would require constant Dreamwine and hot cloths to overcome these near weekly occurrences, she could not help but try and help her husband.

When Rhaegar had married her, he had shared the prophecy he had discovered in Summerhall. That something was coming, a great cold was creeping towards their lands, and it was up to the Targaryens to stop it. And it would have to be a set of three children, two daughters and a son. She, loving her own large number of siblings, had agreed to it. She had to produce two of the heads of the dragon, one daughter and one son…but she could not provide a third. She had seen the fear in her husband's eyes when Maester Pycelle had informed them of her inability to have another child, and she could tell the melancholy still seeped within him. Rhaegar, always far more awkward than his reputation and looks lead people to believe, had simply allowed himself to drift for the past few months, ever more worried that he had failed, and his children would be unable to fulfill the prophecy he had read all those years ago.

So Ellia had taken the issue into her own hands. If she could not bare a third child, she would find a suitable substitute.

If her husband wanted another child, then the best option would be for him to sleep with someone who looked mostly like Ellia herself, and then stay in seclusion until the child was born. The Child would be able to be passed off as one of theirs, there would be no uproar about a bastard, and Rhaegar would have his second princess. His third head of the dragon.

'And what better woman to create such a copycat child with than my own sister,' she thought looking over the young woman who looked as almost exactly as she did a decade earlier. Perhaps it was wrong to send a woman so young to the birthing bed, but the girl had always sought to help Ellia ever since she could walk, and she could not help but love the girl for it.

"Just, keep this sharing as quiet as possible," Ellia smiled at Mata Sand, the bastard daughter of her father's final paramour, who groaned in response, "If we wake the baby, I might have to get up, and then we'd need for you to go get another jug of sweetwine."