Elia III

"Get your asses ready you layabouts!" the knight's voice cut through the din of the field, so loud and sure that it made it all the way up the hill to where Elia and her sister were looking over the growing mass of tents and soldiers, and continuing to remind Elia of the dire state of the kingdom she had agreed to become queen of, "I've never seen a shabbier group of pickpockets and thieves."

"He has a way with words?" Elia stared over at her half-sister. Mata had grown even more beautiful over the past year. Her hair had gained an unnatural sheen, her skin had taken on a bronze tint, and her bosom…well it was impressive. So impressive, that at times guests would mistake the bastard for her, thinking the more naturally beautiful woman must be the princess. The disappointment in their eyes at her in comparison was only another one of the indignities that Elia had heaped over her during this last year, since her husband gave that damn crown of roses to that damn little long faced girl.

'Stop it Elia,' she pushed the envy and exhaustion to the back of her mind, 'Mata has done nothing but help you, the poor girl,' honestly, Elia was glad to have her little half sister now more than ever, with her best friend Ashara Dayne having left for Starfall. Elia shook her head, and smiled at her friend, 'And she may be the last one in this whole damn castle that you can still trust.'

"All men think they have ways with words," Elia finally commented, looking back down at Ser Alliser Thorne, who was in the process of training up the a massive group of the dregs of Fleabottom. They had only been being trained for the last few days, ever since the remains of Jon Connington's army had returned. Now, with news of the Rebels having nearly forty thousand soldiers around Riverrun, there had been a scramble to find more men to rebuild the army for another battle.

'Though seeing how Ser Alliser is reacting,' Elia could see the already prickly man's head nearly become as crimson as the dragon on her husband's sigil, 'I must wonder if these men would even be worth calling soldiers?'

Ellia continued to watch as the army began to march back and forth along the fields outside the Gate of the Gods, with thousands of barely armored men going to and fro. They all had on their shoulders short spears, with a black wooden shield, and a mix of cloth armor and small pieces of armor along parts of their bodies. Some had helmets, but most barely had small iron caps that only came down to the tip of their ears. Most of their colors didn't even match, other than the again, the black shields.

"They don't even all look like they're from the same army," Mata wondered aloud, and Ellia could only nod. This new army looked as slapdash as it was, and it didn't matter how hard knights like Alliser Thorne, or even more respected men like Barristan Selmy, were going to get it ready before it had to move out.

"Of course," Elia looked a bit to the East, around the Old Gate, "This really isn't a full army," as a mass of soldiers marching in far better order drilled in traditional martial arts. Ten thousand spearmen of Dorne, mostly Sandy in nature though there were a few Stony Dornish knights observing the drills, had gathered. Her kingdom's warriors were far more ready for the coming battle, though she knew most really would rather not be here.

'So many Dornish men are only here because of me," she knew that Aerys was only able to get these men to agree to go to battle by using her as a hostage. It was certainly why her uncle, Llewyn Martell, was currently commanding the army. Even as a member of the Kingsguard, Llewyn was capable of remarkable independence. But the thought of his family in danger had brought the mighty knight come back alongside…him.

"Are you well Elia?" Mata asked, and Elia shook her head.

"I will be when we return to our rooms," she said. Part of her wanted to run to the men of Dorne, and to have the soldiers and her uncle take her from this rotten place. But her children had been kept from coming out here with her, and she would not dare put her safety over theirs. She turned back to her sister, "Let us go back, there is nothing else we can do here."

"Of course," Mata nodded, and the three finally began to walk back towards the Gate of the Gods. As they did so, they were stopped as the gold cloaks opened the gate, which were always closed to keep rebel spies from entering King's Landing. As they walked through the gate, she took the time to take one look south, to see the remains of the previous army that Jon Connington had commanded before Aerys had sent him into exile for his failure.

'And another ally gone,' she thought, remembering the sorrowful look upon the face of her husband's companion. He'd promised to return with the head of the Robert Baratheon, and instead he returned with an army seven thousand soldiers fewer. Only about a thousand or so had been lost in the battle itself, but he was left with only around thirteen thousand after all the loyal river lords captured in battle ordered their banners home. So it was mostly only men of the Reach and the Crownlands, but it was probably the best overall group of men they had under their banner. They were mostly well trained man at arms, and there attached to that group were some of the greatest knights in all the Seven Kingdoms.

"My Princess!" a high pitched voice called out as Elia walked through the Gate of the Gods. She looked over to a rider galloping up towards her, a surcoat with a red griffin on a white background. Just as she was about to pull Mata out of the way, the rider brought their horse to a pinpoint stop, and calmly kept it in place. The knight raised his hand to her, and continued to say, "Princess Elia! It is an honor to meet you!"

"Good ser," she began, glad that the horse was no longer charging towards her, but off put by the speed at which it had approached her, "Please seek to keep control over your horse."

"Oh my lady," the knight said, "Do not worry yourself about ol' Griff here," he patted the horse beneath him, "I've trained him since he was a foal. He'd never even think of harming such beautiful flowers such as yourselves."

Elia couldn't help but feel her eyebrow raise at the compliment, which seemed far more familiar than a stranger should be allowed. For a moment, the horse just stayed still, before finally, the rider noticed her lack of a charmed response to their compliment. He then let out a laugh.

"My apologies Princess," the rider said, "I should have been in better control," the knight reached its hands up to his head, and grabbed the front of the helmet. The visor was pulled upward, and for a second, Elia wondered if he was looking at a woman. Yet this quickly died, as she recognized some of the features in this knight.

'He's part Valyrian,' she thought. His soft cheekbones and his pretty lips, and soft eyes…all of them were qualities that were shared with her husband. Ellia could see a small blush on Mata's cheeks, though she seemed in control as well, 'Though she might not be if she hadn't become so used to spending time with Rhaegar.'

"Your apologies are accepted," she said. The knight gave a small bow, and then, from his side, he brought out two horses. He moved them in front of Elia and Mata, and let go of the reins so they held down right in front of them. As Elia looked the horses over, Elia raised her hand to grab the straps, and used them to quickly pull herself up.

"I was sent to bring you back to the Red Keep," the rider said, "The Prince wishes to speak with you."

'Of course he does,' Elia nodded, as she and Mata took their mounts, and soon they were riding together, with the pretty boy in front of them offering his service as an escort. Slowly Elia rode along the roads, ones she'd become familiar with in the years she'd lived in King's Landing. She had never grown used to the smell, so ripe and rotten in comparison to the clean smell from the Water Gardens. It was even worse now, with the armies outside contributing more smell from the extra sewage, both from the men, and their mounts.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you princess," the rider in front of them said as they pass Cobblers Square, "My cousin may be…" he stopped speaking, as though he was attempting to find the correct word, "Out of favor at the moment, but he spoke very fondly of you and the prince whenever I saw him."

'That explains a few things,' Elia considered to herself as she finally connected the last few dots.

"You are Jon Connington's cousin then?" she spoke up, and saw the rider in front of them nod his head. She'd gotten to know Jon Connington fairly well, the Lord of Griffin's Roost was one of Rhaegar's main allies in the original plan to force Aerys to abdicate the throne. They'd never been close, Jon had always seemed to be a bit strange about meeting her, but he'd been an ally, and she was sorry to see one of the few men she knew would fight for Rhaegar in Kings Landing forced into exile. The defeat at the Stoney Sept had nearly been a disaster, however, and Aerys had taken the chance to remove him from the board.

"Yup," the young warrior laughed, "Cuz…well cuz and I weren't very close, mostly because my father…well I wasn't ever supposed happen as it were."

'Yes,' Elia nodded to herself. She'd heard the rumors.

"Well, they are true," the rider continued, as they passed the alchemist's guild hall. Elia vaguely noticed activity from Aery's favorite workers, but she would rather the entire guild was expelled than have to deal with their insanity, "My father was the younger brother to Lord Armond, also the father of Lord Ronald," the castellan who'd taken Jon's titles after the exile occurred, "he had a romantic streak, and like to cross the Stepstones to Lys at times," the rider turned back with his pretty face and smiled, "I'm sure you can guess the rest."

'A son with a courtesan,' was the obvious conclusion, and the one the rumors had led her to believe, "Certainly explains the Valyrian features.'

"Well, I was obviously considered a blight on our houses honor, but with Armond and my father's passing, I was brought more into the fold," the rider continued, "Well, I was the right age to be a squire, and with no one else as a proper choice, I got lucky for a bastard, and got to be one."

"Not too bad a deal then," Mata said. As a bastard herself, she likely connected with this rider. And while Dorne didn't treat bastards the same way that the Andals did, it didn't mean she didn't understand the trials that came with that background.

"Not too bad a deal in the least," they were coming up to the hill that led to the Red Keep itself. The massive red stone structure towered over the skyline, and it almost mixed with the sky colored by the setting sun, "Well, I proved myself somewhat during the Bells. I helped save Cuz's life when he was about to be killed by Robert Baratheon," he then turned back with a smile, "You can imagine that he thought better of me then, and declared once we got back here, he'd make me a knight."

"Congratulations Se-"

"And then he got exiled before he could do it," the quick response caused Elia to wince. So it wasn't just her husband who'd lost something with Jon Connighton's exile. This young man had lost perhaps his best chance for a major advancement for a while. But quickly, the rider spoke up once more, "Still though, he left me with some things before he left," he waved his hand around himself, "Enough money for a new suit of armor and a new surcoat for one."

"New surcoat," Elia had managed to recognize the red griffin on his chest, and then blinked as she took another look, and realized that she hadn't recognized it because it wasn't a griffin. A griffin had large lion claws on it, but the limbs on this beast were hooved. It still had the mighty bird head, but with the body of a horse.

"Yes, a hippogriff," the young man laughed, "I thought it would be an honor to my house, but also stand on its own," he then stopped laughing, "Though, I haven't had the chance to actually come up with a new name."

"New name?"

"I'd rather not be known as Astolfo Seas for the rest of my life," the boy admitted.

"That…"

"My father was a voracious reader," Astolfo nodded, "Astolfo was a character who's name he read in one of his many travels, and he thought it would be a unique enough name for a bastard to make me something special."

The conversation continued for a bit more after that as they climbed their way to the Red Keep. Astolfo told them of his time as a bastard, how he had managed to save Jon Connington during the Battle of the Bells and that he would be serving now as Barristen Selmy's squire for the upcoming campaign.

"It's a massive honor really," Astolfo said, "Even if I wasn't made a knight before this, I now have the chance to learn at the hand of the greatest living knight. And should I prove myself in the next battle, it will be Barristan the Bold who grants me my knighthood, a greater honor than I could possibly have imagined before."

"It would be an honor indeed," Elia nodded. Part of her felt a strange fear in her gut, the thought of Barristan the Bold leaving her and her children in King's Landing, but she knew he would likely be needed at whatever this final battle with Robert's forces would be. Just like Uncle Llewyn and Jorathor Darry, Barristan was likely needed to both given the army a competent set of commanders, but also to inspire the motley rabble they'd managed to build out of the dregs of Flea Bottom. She kept her eyes on the young squire as Astolfo looked back at her, and she added, "I have no doubt that you will account yourself well in the upcoming campaign."

"Your confidence is a greater gift than I could ask for my lady," had she been a few years younger, with some of her youthful bashfulness still intact, she might have blushed. But the boy was clearly acting this way because she was a princess.

'And is even that enough?' Elia thought darkly, 'After all, being a princess didn't mean that my husband even cared not to publicly demonstrate his trist before all the greatest lords and ladies of the land?"

"We are here," Mata spoke up, pulling Elia from her thoughts. The Gold Cloaks standing at the front of the gate bowed to her as she rode up. After a few moments, she and Mata had dismounted. As they did so, they were soon led inside the open gate. The gate began to begin to be closed, however, as they did so, Elia saw their escort raise a hand up to wave at them as it was closing.

"Was good to meet you, my princess, Lady Mata!" he shouted, somehow taking off his helmet and waving it into the sky as he turned his horse around, and began to gallop back down the hill, and towards the armies massing around the city. For a second, Elia and Mata could only stare. Elia's eyes twisted to her sister, and again saw a small blush, likely from Astolfo calling her a Lady. However, despite that, she couldn't help but think about one quality she had just taken in.

"Did…did he have pink hair?"

Elia smiled as Aegon looked up at her. He had just stumbled his way along the small table, using his hand to help hold himself up as he walked the furthest he'd ever seen the boy. The little boy's massive smile was infectious, enough to drive from her mind all the torments she'd been forced to live with for the past few months. Of course, as she looked at his face, she couldn't help but think of the boy's father.

Not because they were similar. Not at all. Where Rhaegar was of pale skin and silver, flowing hair, this boy had an inborn tan like her own and short straight black hair. Where Rhaegar's features were soft, Aegon's were like cut rock. And while Rhaegar was designed for melancholy, Aegon seemed to babble happily like there was nothing wrong in the world. Yet despite these differences, she couldn't stop thinking about her husband. Indeed, likely because of how different the boy was, Elia had to think about Rhaegar.

And thinking about Rhaegar made ehr want to scream.

'Don't do it,' she had to tell herself, 'you might scare Aegon,' she then thought of a small outburst he had had with Rhaenys, 'You already hurt one of your children.'

The poor girl had been so excited a fortnight before today, before they had learned of the Battle of the Bells, when she had led Elia to her playroom. Elia had been quite happy to follow her little daughter…until that girl pulled out a harp, and began to play a song she had just learned. Elia had been so angry that she no longer even remembered the song, and her outburst had scared her daughter deeply. It had taken Mata nearly a day to get Rhaenys to come out from her room, and even now, Elia wasn't sure if her daughter had forgiven her.

'Just another punishment you suffer for indulging your husband.'

"Elia?"

'Speak of the devil,' Elia had been so focused on playing with her son, she'd failed to hear the door of the little boy's room open behind her. Aegon stopped babbling, and looked around Elia's shoulder. He then stopped, and pulled himself back, hiding behind her so this strange man wouldn't see him. Elia saw the behavior and wanted to walk up and smack Rhaegar, 'You've been gone so long your son doesn't even recognize you Rhaegar.'

"I've been looking for you," Rhaegar's voice cut through her thoughts. She stood up, picking up her little boy in her hands as she turned to look her husband directly in his eyes.

"Rhaegar," she said as venomously as possible. He had bags under his eyes, and the amethysts themselves were dull. He looked like he had barely slept, and that he was holding himself up with only great effort on his own part. The prince almost seemed to sway as he stood there, his body almost falling over.

"Elia," he said. It was as though a great spoon had come from the sky and carved out most of his voice from his throat. She'd never seen him quite like this before, not just melancholic, not just depressed…but utterly beaten. He looked like the whole world had crashed down upon his head, and left him a broken man.

It was too bad for him Elia wasn't in any mood to try and offer him comfort.

"So how was your little wolf pup?" she asked, and was slightly frustrated that he didn't wince at the accusation. His eyes did seemed to dull, but he didn't even try to open his mouth to offer a defense of himself. He just continued to look at her, his eyes sad as ever, "Oh, you don't want to talk about it?"

Rhaegar didn't say anything.

"You don't want to speak about your new little queen?" Elia didn't bother to hold back the venom, "I'm sure you had a magnificent time with that Stark girl. You all could spend the whole time speaking about jousting and tourney's and such things."

"Elia," he spoke again, trying to hold his hands up in defense as Elia marched up to him, Aegon held in her right hand, her left hand pointing directly to Rhaegar's chest. He seemed to lean backward as her finger managed to poke at the middle of his chest, her finger almost cutting through the silk doublet he was wearing.

"Come now, you can tell me about what fun you were having these past few months while thousands of men died in your name," Rhaegar only winced more at that.

"I didn't mea-"

"Oh, don't lie to me," Elia growled, "You had to know that the Starks wouldn't react well if Lyanna disappeared before wedding her betrothed," she decided to twist the knife a bit more, "A family like that would never forgive the absconding and rape of their only daught-"

"It wasn't a rape," Rhaegar shouted quickly, his eyes suddenly burning to life. But there was fear in there too, "She came willingly. I…when we met in Riverrun, I-"

"You came to a fifteen year old girl as a prince and asked her to have your child," she looked at him with her most withering glare, "And I'm sure with the time you had with that little girl, you certainly already have your third head of a dragon on its wa-"

"You were throwing your sister at me!" he shouted back, for the first time anger clear in his voice. She stopped, a treacherous part of her mind agreeing with her husband, but the rest of her just kept moving forward, ready to finally put some of the pain she'd felt these past months on the one who'd caused it.

"It was supposed to be an hidden thing, something where we could hide that your third child wasn't from me!" she shouted. She began to feel a lot of movement in her arm, but she kept her eyes firmly on Rhaegar, "It wasn't supposed to be you absconding with the daughter of one of the most important families in all the Seven Kingdoms, one that was promised to the Lord Paramount of another one of those kingdoms," she gritted her teeth as she leaned forward, "Because of you, we might lose everything, all because you couldn't be pulled from whatever little thing your stupid dreams told you to-"

"WAAAAGGH!"

Elia was finally pulled from her rage by the Aegon's scream. She stopped, and looked at the little boy, who was trying desperately to pull away from her. It was only now that she realized she had been screaming directly in front of the little boy, and likely had frightened him. Before she could do anything, two hands reached out and grabbed up Aegon. Rhaegar looked down at his son, and slowly rocked the boy in his arms. He began to chant something, though Elia couldn't understand it. After a few moments, the babe stopped crying, and slowly began to close his eyes. All the while Rhaegar just held the boy as close as he could but with the gentleness that had made the Prince so attractive to Elia when they first met.

Finally, the boy was asleep, and Rhaegar carried the boy to his crib. He set his son down into the crib, all the while rubbing the boy, who looked so little like him. He just stood over the crib for a while, the whole room remaining silent as he just took in his son.

Elia could only watch and stare. There was part of her, a part that was probably too big, that still loved this man, for all that he had humiliated her horribly this past year. And it was this, the love of his children, that made it seem like the Rhaegar she had thought she knew was still there. But she knew they'd never probably be able to return to before, even if Rhaegar won his war against Robert Baratheon. The damage they'd caused would scar the lands of the Seven Kingdoms for a generation, and it would take a great deal of work to make up for the deaths from the war and from Rhaegar's horrific actions.

"I should have given you my plans before I left," Rhaegar said out of the blue only a few moments after Aegon had finally fallen asleep. She just stood there, not even bothering to accept this type of apology, "I owed it to you to let you know what was happening."

"And how would that have helped," she said, "So I'd know where you were, and where you were taking that girl?" she almost laughed, if part of her didn't remember the smell of Lord Stark's burning flesh, "Would that have helped anyone? Would you have been able to arrive swiftly enough to save your paramour's family from their deaths, and cut this war off before it became the beast that might swallow all of us whole?"

"I might have gotten here soon enough to take over the war effort and crush the rebellion before Robert made it out of Gulltown," Rhaegar said sadly, "We were around Ashford at the time from my understanding, and had you been able to reach me, I could have made it in time to get back here to run the war effort," he then sighed, "Or at least, been able to be at Summerhall to command the three loyal Stormlander armies before Robert managed to gain his three victories."

'Just like him,' Elia considered, 'He has likely gone through this in his head a half hundred times in the past fortnight, working out his travels with the calendar to come up with what he might have been able to do.'

"But now…it's too late, and that's my fault," he nodded, "I do not know how Lord Commander Hightower managed to find us," he almost winced at the mention of the legendary "White Bull", "But now…now four Lord Paramounts will be marching south together towards Kings Landing," he sighed, "And with an army of nearly forty thousand rebels…we cannot defeat them in open battle."

"...what?" Elia's fear exploded from the back of her neck, "What do you mean?"

"Elia," Rhaegar looked back at her, "I was told you were out looking over our newest soldiers," Elia nodded, "Did they look like they were anywhere ready for an actual battle?"

"...No," Elia admitted, "But, well, sur-"

"We will likely have two armies battling with around the same number of men when they meet," Rhaegar said firmly, "However, while they will be made of men-at-arms and soldiers with months of experience in either skirmishes or minor battles, while a full third of our army is so green that they'd likely break and run at the first sign of real trouble."

"Then…then how are you supposed to win?"

"The King's Ford at the Trident," Rhaegar said confidently. Elia had been by that ford before, the one where the King's Road crossed a wide and shallow part of the Trident, "If we can set up our forces there, we can use the terrain and the river to keep our enemies to our North," he then sighed, "I've already sent Ser Jorathor to House Darry this morning," Elia remembered that they were the only loyal River Lord house to not have been knocked out at Stoney Sept, "He will take their banners to hold that ford until the rest of our army can arrive. If we hold that ford, we will have time to train our army to some level of adequacy," he looked away from her darkly, "Tis not like we have any more soldiers marching to join us."

"There are no more reinforcements?" Elia asked in shock, before asking, "What of Lord Tyrell," she remembered her family's old rivals who had declared for House Targaryen at the beginning of the war, and the fifty thousand soldiers he currently had in the field after his victory as Ashford, "he has a massive army in the Storm Lands, besieging Storm's End. Surely he could send some of that army to us, or even come in full force after Robert's little brother surrenders."

"The Tyrell's aren't coming," Rhaegar said, "He isn't interested in fighting for us. Just appearing as though he has," just as Elia was about to ask a question, he explained further, "Instead of pursuing Robert Baratheon after Ashford and crushing and killing him, he allowed him to go free. And afterward, he planted a massive army outside Storm's End, rather than risk any more of his troops in pitched battle with rebel armies," he shook his head, "No, the Tyrell's won't move to help us further until they are sure we shall win."

That was bad. Elia understood that meant the richest and most populous section of the loyalist cause was not going to contribute anymore to the war effort. And she knew that Dorne likely didn't have many more soldiers to provide, and certainly none that could arrive within the next few weeks before the final battle.

'Which leaves only one other kingdom to draw strength from…' she considered.

"What of Tywin Lannister?"

"He hasn't publicly declared for the Rebellion," Rhaegar sighed, "But…he's now kin with Eddard Stark," Rhaegar stopped, and thought for a moment, before for the first time, a small smile appeared over his face, "Something we share in common now."

Elia deigned to ignore that. It took a moment for Rhaegar to shake himself free of the small joke, and continue.

"But no, Tywin Lannister hates my father for humiliating him," Rhaegar sighed, and Elia couldn't help but wonder what humiliation Rhaegar was referring to, Jamie Lannister being added to the Kingsguard or the banishment of Artoria herself, "And despite not declaring, surely he wouldn't be willing to march against his kin in this battle."

"So…that army out there is really all we have left?"

"It is," Rhaegar nodded, "Which is why we shall leave at the crack of dawn. We must hold that ford if we are to manage to win this. If we can force them to attack us while we have the better ground, we might be able to win, and if we win, the change in circumstances might be enough to get the Tyrells to send us more men," he gave one last look down at his little boy, sadness further growing in his eyes, "But, we must win this battle, or all will be lost."

He then turned away from the cradle, and marched past Elia, his eyes being forced to meet hers. She could tell he was trying, he would never look her in the eyes if he could help it. It meant he wanted to try and demonstrate that he cared. And there was a small voice in the back of her head, that of the girl who first learned she would be marrying the prince.

"You caused this you know."

She ignored the voice, and Rhaegar stopped. Elia glared at her, hoping that she'd see him rage, hoping that he'd fully reveal a dark, evil rotten man. A man who thought he was better than her, that thought she should die for daring to question or mock him. A man who might declare that she should lay down before him, a dragon with the blood of Aegon the Conquerer. A man…a man like his father…a man like the Mad King…

…A Man Like Aerys.

But when she looked in his eyes, she didn't see that, no matter how much she wished she could. Instead, she saw the same man she'd married. TA sad boy who'd first sung to her about life, about death, and about dragons. A boy who'd taken her as his bride, and been the father of her children. A boy who'd planned for the eventual removal of his insane father.

A man who knew she was right.

'Honestly,' Rhaegar looked away again, and saw him place his hand on the door, 'I'm not sure this is any better. If you know you were doing something wrong, why would you do it?'

"Elia," He spoke up, as his hand was on the door. He looked back, and part of Elia knew this is the last time she'd ever see him.

"I am sorry."

Rhaegar was gone. He'd gone to go and lead what remained of Jon Connington's army. They'd march before dawn, and hopefully make the Trident in a few days. They didn't know where the Rebel army was, so by Rhaegar arrived, it could be totally possible that they'd been beaten by Robert Baratheon. But as her husband had said, it was the Targaryen's only shot at winning the war, so they would leave early, and march as quickly as possible.

'It does mean I will not have to see him off,' Elia thought darkly, sitting along her bed, looking out the window to the city below. She could vaguely see the armies outside the gate, and wondered what fire was where Rhaegar was staying, 'I do not think I could deal with speaking with him any longer.'

She instead focused on the rest of the city of King's Landing. She had never truly come to love the city of King's Landing, but it had grown on her some. If one ignored the horrible stench, which one never really could, but she was wistful at the moment, so she could try, then one could find some comfort in the city. Even now, there were lights around the city, where the smallfolk did what they must, moving back and forth to try and make the best of their days. Though with how late it was now, most of the city was now dark.

Except…Elia caught something out of the corner of her eye. Light. No, not just light, but lights. Over a dozen lights just happened to burst alive near the middle of the city. And they were moving. They were moving in a straight line, one light behind the other. It did not take long for Elia to recognize that they were torches, and that these men were marching towards the Red Keep herself. Part of Elia felt worried that some rebels had been able to sneak into King's Landing in an attempt to burn them down from the inside, but she shook her head when she realized where these men had come from.

"Alchemists," she said to herself.

She had seen them before, stalking the halls of the Red Keep, going to and fro. They were Aerys favorites, the only ones who he seemed to actually enjoy conversing with anymore. Even lickspittles like Lucerys Velarion and Symond Stauton had become tiresome in their flattery. But the men of the alchemists guild were different. Somehow, they seemed to think as Aerys did in his madness. It was for that very reason that Rhaegar had bade her to avoid them at all costs.

'Yet now,' She watched as the dozen torches moved as a precession up the hill to the gate of the keep, 'Now they come here,' she felt a sense of foreboding. Previously, whenever the alchemists were about, she had some protection. Even if Aerys despised her, Rhaegar or the Knights of the Kingsguard would offer to protect or watch over her. She remembered once Balis, one of the three wisdoms who led the guild, had looked at her hungrily only a few weeks ago, yet the White Bull had gotten in front of her, and nearly pulled his sword on the old man. It almost made up for Hightower's arrogance and hypocrisy.

Almost.

But, as they came in through the gate, and into the front courtyard, she could see them. The three wisdoms were in front; Ballis, Garigus and the Rossart. The were distinguished from the ten other men by their more intricate robes, the designs illuminated by their torches. Yet…of the ten around them, only nine had robes of the guild. There was another one without robes. He was strange, and she could barely make out the features, since unlike the others, he did not hold a torch, other than that he was tall. They put out their torches, and slowly the procession was lead inside the main body of the Keep.

'What is happening?' she wondered. The mere thought of these men coming here so late at night…likely called for a secret meeting with Aerys. Part of her wished to just go to lock her door and go to sleep. But if there was some kind of horrible plan that dealt with her children…

It took only a few minutes to sneak out of her room, and slowly descend down the stairway toward the throne room. There were no guards out tonight, with most of the remaining gold cloaks doing their best to guard the main walls. That left only one warrior standing outside the barely open door, just a crack open with dim light peering out.

"Ser Jaime," the young blonde man looked over at her, and Elia felt her heart ache. The young man who she had at one point thought she would wed, and in its place was a tired and beaten boy, with eyes sunk and hair a mess. More than anyone in this blasted place he had been bared the brunt of Aerys's madness these past few months, the mad king wanting to have him nearby. As she continued to approach, he merely raised a finger to his mouth, and Elia did her best to keep her voice down, "What is Aerys meeting with the Alchemists for?"

"They are in discussion," he whispered back. So, with the door barely open, Elia came up beside Jaime, and did her best to listen in.

"-poisoned fruit of my loins," she heard the king rant, his voice cracking at the last word, "Traitorous cur, just as his mother, just as his whorish, dornish wench of a wife!"

"So they only just started?" she asked, and she could see Jaime nod his head. More than likely, they had only arrived, as it was almost a form of greeting for Aerys to curse his eldest son. Aerys hated Rhaegar. Hated him for Rhaegar being smarter, for being stronger, for being braver. Despite her anger at the Prince, she knew that he was by every measure a far greater man than the one sitting upon that wretched throne.

"My Most Aflamed Lord," that was Rossart, Aerys's favorite among the wisdoms, and the one who had in fact suggested that Lord Stark face fire as his opponent during the Trial of Combat, "We are most glad at your summons, and curse the name of your wife's traitorous brood."

"Yes, yes," Aerys screamed, "That little worm could not have come from me. Must be nothing but polluted blood."

"But Highest King," Rossart continued, excitement in his voice as he seemed to be relaying some great scheme, "We have a visitor coming here now. One…one who will finally be able to grant you the powers you need, to spread your wings, my lord!"

"Spread my wings…," Aerys's voice seemed to catch in his throat, and he stopped speaking for a moment. She could only remain in place for a moment, before the next few sounds game through. It took her a moment to realize that the king was laughing, giggling like a small girl, "Rossart…Rooosssaaarrtttt, my magnificent man, you say you've found the spell, the one that will let me take my true place, to become."

Aerys seemed to stop again, breathing in heavily.

"To become a dragon?"

'He can't be serious,' Elia thought.

"Yes my King," Rossart said. Elia did her best to look through the crack, and did see Aerys, matted hair and long fingernails. His eyes were manically pointed at the group of men in front of him. And slowly, Elia could see the tallest of the men walk from the back of the group to the front, "This is our man, a mage of the East who has come to bring us the spell."

The man was tall, as she had previously noticed from her room. He had massive broad shoulders, covered by a long crimson cloak, that came down above deep dark black and silver boots. She could see that atop his head was a shock of short white hair that seemed to spike up slightly, that grew out of a bronze colored skin. The man moved forward gently, and then bowed himself before the throne, and out of her vision. She then felt Jamie pull her back, and turned back to look at the knight.

"You musn't be seen," he whispered.

"So who are you?" she heard Aerys say. Elia could hear he was attempting to be cordial, but the bitter spite was still upon every word his tongue formed.

"Ah, great king," the man's voice was…lovely. It was deep and masculine certainly, but their was a music deep in his throat that turned every word he said into poetry, "Please allow me to introduce myself," Elia could almost here the instruments playing behind his voice, "Onos Maghagon."

Elia stopped. The name was Valyrian, but she could not place it. Rhaegar did not find the language enjoyable to speak, preferring common tongue for his music and his musings.

"I am from Asshai by the Shadows," the man continued, and Elia just guessed she would have to wait for anymore, as she didn't want to miss what he was saying. And yet that was enough to cause Aerys to laugh aloud, though this seemed to be some true jape.

"From the shadows, a light bringer?"

"Ha, tis ironic, is it not?" Onos laughed, "But yes, even in that dark place, the greatest light of all are being discovered, tested, and practiced," the foreigner paused, and it was almost as though he was waiting for the agreement of the men he'd traveled with, "After all, it was in the lights of a mystic flame that I saw I come here, to you, the man who will set alight the world in holy flame."

'He clearly knows how to flatter Aerys,' Elia considered, as she heard a strange noise of approval erupt from Aery's throat. This was quickly joined by glad chittering of the alchemists.

"For you see, I do have a spell that can allow you to grow beyond the constraints that so chain you to the plane of mortal men," Onos continued, and suddenly, she heard what sounded like a massive pot being moved, "See here, I am sure you recognize it."

"Wildfire," the glee from Aerys's voice made Elia's skin crawl. Wildfire was a monstrous thing, a green liquid that once alight, would not stop burning until it all disappeared. Even water could not douse the flames of Wildfire. It was the most wretched product of the alchemist guild, and that hall had produced no shortage of truly wretched things. And Aerys had been ordering whole barrels of the stuff, and had justified it as an expense to defend King's Landing from a naval attack.

"Yes," Onos said, "Now stand back," at this moment, something happened, and Elia very much wished she had still been looking at the room. But she was not, and instead, only heard the pot begin to burn. But that was quickly followed by the sound of a strange, animalistic screech. Elia nearly fell backward at the sound, but steeled herself and stood firm. She looked over at Jaime, who had been looking through the door. And it seemed as though all the skin on his face had been pulled back, stretching so far that it made it look as though he only had half as much skin as he would need to be able to actually cover his skull.

"Do you see?"

"Yes! HA HA YES!" Aerys wasn't cackling and giggling. Now, his voice was one of true boisterous joy. The cheers and adulations were now filling the room, and then, just as everything seemed to be reaching a crescendo, it stopped, as there was suddenly a sound of confusion, "Wait, wh-what happened?"

"My King," the man of Asshai by the shadow spoke up, "Surely you did not think that such power would come without a cost?" Elia could see Jaime's face return to some normal appearance, though the fear in his eyes was clear as day, "I could only perform that summoning for a short while, and to move your spirit into such a beast, and allow you to live out your full life, it would take great sacrifice…"

"What is it then?" Aerys spat quickly, a manic need now filling him clearly, "What do you need for me to become a dragon, to complete the spell," he stopped, almost heaving in anticipation, "Gold, women. I have a whore upstairs with your comple-"

"No need," the voice cut the king off, but Elia could not help but grip her fingers tightly into the palms of her firsts. A mix of anger and fear burst up, and she felt the need to almost run, but she held herself where she stood, "I wish to see this occur as much as you do," his laugh was deep and melodious, but she could now feel that each word of his rose a great fear along her spine, "I need no money or whore. Merely a sacrifice worthy of completing the spell."

"So…how much do you need?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, as though Onos was considering the question. Elia felt her eyes almost immediately turn up the stairs, imagining for a moment that he might soon request for the blood of a prince. Her son, or perhaps poor Viserys, Rhaegar's little brother. Either might be considered. She was about to leave when the foreigner's voice finally cut through the silence.

"An army, your grace," he said. That at first made Elia lose some fear for her family, but only confused her more.

"An army," Aerys stopped, "You mean, the one outside?"

"Perhaps," Onos continued, "Though I might wait a bit for that one," he began his explanation, "The creation of a beast as powerful as a dragon meeds to have a powerful sacrifice, and tens of thousands of men in steel and iron should be enough. Though that army out there might still have use, and I will take a few days to set up our spell."

"My king," Balis spoke up, and Elia twisted her mouth, remembering the vicious look in his eyes when they had last met, "Perhaps, we could attempt to go with the army, to use the spell on the Rebels? Their army might allow you to reach your true self?"

"No!" Aerys spat, "I shall not dare grace those peasants with my presence," he was likely spitting in anger now, "Tis not a place of a king to fight his dogs. Tis the duty of his other dogs to put rabid beasts down. I will not march out and dare offer them some kind of validation with my presence on a stenchy battlefield."

"Of course my liege."

"Then," Onos said, "Why not wait for an army to arrive in King's Landing?" there was a sputtering of words and questions as he said this, "I would have time to set the spell up around the gates, and once they entered, I could start the spell, and burn the army that arrived up."

"Yes, the army that arrives here next shall be the one we use as our sacrifice," Aerys announced, and the voices of the alchemists all seemed to concur with the King. Elia blinked for a second, considering the question.

'Wait,' Elia suddenly thought, 'Could that not mean…that he might use our army, if it wins, as a sacrifice?' she had to bite the side of her mouth to keep from screaming, 'HE MEANS TO BURN OUR OWN MEN IF HE NEEDS TO!'

"Or, my lord," Rossart spoke once again, "There is new about Tywin Lannister-"

"What is that tom cat doing now?" Aerys asked dismissively. Elia could not help but look at Jaime, who seemed to grow morose at the mention of his father. Elia could only imagine the melancholy Jaime must feel now, with every word of warning his father gave him knocking around in his head.

"Well, my lord," Rossart spoke up, "It is said he moves at the head of an army along the Gold Road," Elia felt her eyes open wide, "That he is marching towards this very city, with nearly twenty five thousand men at arms under his command."

"So he declared for the Rebels then," Aerys seemed almost disappointed, but not at all surprised.

"No my King," the Wisdom continued, "He hasn't made his intentions known at all. There have been no ravens from him, and he has not gone up the River Road to join the Rebels. No one knows what he plans?"

"Tis obvious, is it not," the king spat, "His little cunt of a daughter's married to one of those rabid dogs now, is she not?" the mention of Artoria caused Jaime for the first time to reach down to the pommel of his sword. For a briefest flash, the old Jaime, the one who hunted and spared with Oberyn, was back, and he looked as though he was about to renter. But he stopped, his vow restraining him back down again, "He means to try and take us from the rears."

"But he does not want to seem that way my King," Rossart continued, "Perhaps, Onos my friend, twenty-five thousand hill men might be enough to burn for this spell, for the ascension of our king to his rightful place among the clouds?"

"Of course," he answered, "Particularly if they mean to cause ill harm to this city, then their bloodlust shall only enhance the power of the spell, and lift you to greater heights than you can imagine my king."

"Yes, yes!" Aerys declared, and Elia could almost imagine him jumping up from his seat, his fist in the air, a triumph in his heart, "Yes, Tywin. You old fool, constantly thinking twas you and not I that ruled these kingdoms. Oh, you will finally prove of some use to me, when I set you ablaze like the last "Lord Paramount" who thought he could stroll into my city and not give me proper deference!"

"Now, for this spell to work, first I shall need a great deal of Wildfire brought before me," Onos continued, a rustling sound coming from around him, "I have this mixture here you see," she could imagine that he was holding up some bottle or other container, "I will apply the proper mix to the wildfire pots, and then, you shall place them around the walls where this Tywin Lannister's army shall come through-"

Elia stopped, and pulled back. She looked over at Jaime, who had regained a sense of horror on her face. As the group inside continued to talk, she pulled him back a few feet, and looked at him. Her mind was racing, but she knew that she only had a few moments before they would exit that room, and she did not want Aerys to think she should be disposed of before she could bring harm to his ambitions.

"We must do this smartly, or your father will die, and we should soon join him if this spell seems as true as promised," Jaime nodded, "Now, we know they need wildfire placed around the city. Whenever you are free for a moment, hunt down those alchemists. Kill them, and try and keep the wildfire from being delivered."

"Yes my princess," he nodded deeply, almost glad to be given orders.

"Keep your spirits up," she said, "I would not seek this Onos, for that might disrupt their plans. Only kill the alchemists, for their deaths can be assumed to be from riots and such," she leaned forward closer, "Only kill him once your father arrives, because that will hopefully allow us to finish him before their plan occurs."

"Yes."

"I must return to my rooms now," she whispered, here as though the meeting was adjourning, "Take heart Ser Jaime. We might be able to save lives with this knowledge, as long as you hold your chin high."

Jaime could only offer a sad smile, as Elia turned and ran with all her speed up the stairs. As she got to the top, she heard the door of the Throne Room open, and men pile out. She thought for a moment to stay and wait for any more information, but she could not be risked to be caught, so she kept up her speed with all haste, until she finally came to her room. She gave one last look back, glad to see that no one was nearby, and then dove inside.

Sweat covering her arms and legs, she shut the door behind her with a mix of quickness and silence. She stared at the door for a moment, breathing heavily as she looked at the barrier between her and what she had just heard. Luckily, as she did so, she could hear no sound from outside the door. As relief began to flow down her limbs, she looked around. She was sweaty and tired now, and despite being healthier, she could use something to dri-

"Here my lady?"

Elia froze at the sing-song voice behind her.

She did not need to turn, she already knew who was in the room. Besides, as she turned, she was seeing a side of this man that she'd never seen. The bronze skin and white hair were enough to give it away, as was the red coat. Beneath that coat was a tight black shirt and black trousers. His face was almost cut from the sandstone of her home, and his eyes were bright white on black background.

He was currently holding out a cup in one hand toward her, the jug of sweet wine in his other hand. His smile was fully serene, and supremely confident. And his eyes were staring directly into her, as though testing every twitch of her muscles.

"How did you get in here?" she asked, and then cursed at the mage in here having caught her. Onos merely raised an eyebrow, before pushing the cup further forward toward her.

"You must drink up my lady, that run was impressive for a woman of your constitution, and it would be best if you rested soon," he said matter of factly.

"So you can turn me in?"

"Why, my princess," the man laughed, and it chilled her to the bone, "I can tell you that I have no desire to see any harm come to you, at least not yet," his face remained serene, as he continued to hold out the cup, "Especially towards that little wyrm getting scabs from that wretched thing you all call a throne."

Elia stared down at the cup, before shaking her head. She would not trust anything this man would give her. This finally caused the mage to sigh, before placing the cup and jug down on the small cupboard next to him, and then suddenly pulling up a pot from around his ankle. It only took a moment for the top of the pot to pop off, and for Elia to see that inside, there was Wildfire.

"What ar-"

"Shush," the man said quietly, raising a finger to his mouth, before pulling out a small bottle, the same one that she imagined that he had shown to Aerys and his lickspittles. He then poured a few drops into the concoction, and then popped the cap back on. And then he pulled out a slide of flint. Before Elia could say anything, the man hit the flint, and sent a spark right into the middle of the horrific substance.

HIIsssssttttttt

And see that the spark disappeared.

"I have no intention of lighting this world on fire Princess," the man said matter of factly, "I can assure you my partner would find that rather boring," he smiled, "My partner rather likes this world, but wanted a few changes for some fun, you see, and setting this wretched squalor heap alight would unfortunately not match what they want."

"I don-"

"You wouldn't understand," the man laughed, holding the pot at his side as he marched over to the window she had watched him march to the Red Keep in, "I shall take my leave of you now, though I must thank you for telling Jaime not to target me," he looked back and nodded, "He's important to the story, after all, so we can't have him dying here."

"Wh-," she could barely process all what she was hearing, "I don-," she just watched as he placed his foot on the window sill and prepared to jump, "Who are you?"

"Ha," the bronze man laughed, "My lady, I am Onos Maghagon?"" he then gave a small bow to her, a smirk on his face the whole time, "A mere man of wealth and taste."

He then leaned over, and said one last thing as he began to walk down the side of the Red Keep, not losing connection to the wall for an instant.