Chapter Text
Elia Martell Targaryen's long braid laid over her right shoulder, covering one exposed breast as she sat up in bed to nurse her newborn son. A son. She had a son and heir. While it almost killed her to do so, Elia gave her husband, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, his legacy—a boy child to carry on the Targaryen name.
Outside of Dorne, she knows a woman's value is tied to giving her husband an heir. It is expected of women in this world. However, as she sits there in her bed holding her son, Elia can only think that the child she grew inside of her made his personality known to her before all others were finally here. A solidly formed babe with a wisp of white-blond hair like his father and eyes that swirled with hues of blues and purples. After birthing Rhaenys and looking so Dornish, Elia was surprised at how this child took after his father. She was expecting another child to look like Rhaenys. However, it seems the gods have decided to grace her and her husband with a child that looked like them.
As her son attempted to suckle the milk she had produced, Elia takes her free hand and gently touches his nose and cheeks with her fingertip. Perhaps it is a blessing that this child looks Targaryen. She can only hope that this babe would decrease the barrage of criticism from her good-father, the king. Elia can only pray so.
Two babes in nearly three years, and she had survived. Barely, but she had. The last thing she had expected to hear was the maester's determination that she could not birth another child. Her mind goes back to his words.
"This cannot be."
Elia knew how much Rhaegar wanted a third child. She had listened to his stories about the prophecy he discovered. Upon hearing the news and Rhaegar's murmur, she thought that perhaps he was wrong in his decipher. Maybe it was Viserys or maybe even the boy prince she held in her arms. What she hadn't expected to hear was...
"There must be a third."
If she closes her eyes, Elia could see her husband's sad face, sad eyes, sad smile. This birth nearly killed her, and he was saddened because she could not try for a third. Did she mean nothing to him? Did their companionship count for nothing? Were the words of warmth and comfort that were spoken away from his father's eyes genuine and sincere? She thought they were, but now she wonders if she thought there more to their marriage while her husband felt differently.
As Elia contemplates her husband's behavior, she must acknowledge though it pains her to do so that he had changed after Harrenhal. Rhaegar was never the same after he crowned Lady Lyanna Stark, the Queen of Love and Beauty. Maybe now he will be like most men in the realm and take a lover in Lady Lyanna as she seemed drawn to his voice and songs. Well, she seemed moved at the tourney. While she never thought he capable of it before, it does not mean he wouldn't be now.
Elia tries to push aside the ache in her heart. The crack of Harrenhal quietly splintering until she fears that it would not take much to shatter her. What Elia will become after she does not know. If his vow to her and his care of her as his wife and the mother of his children means naught to him, what can she do? If he takes a lover, he takes a lover. All she prays is he does not rub it in her face, and most importantly, he does not bring a bastard into the world. We have seen enough Blackfyre's to last the realm and eternity.
A knock at her door pulls Elia out of the bleak darkness of her thoughts. She raises her head and watches as her husband walks quietly, yet hesitantly into her room.
"El, how do you fair my dear?"
Dear. He used to call me love, but that too changed a moon or so after Harrenhal. Until he moves to dishonor our vows, I will hold fast to who I am—who I always have been with him.
"I am tired, my love, but I am always happy to see you near." Elia makes an effort to say these words though she doubts they mean something to her husband. They once had, she thought.
Rhaegar forces a smile. She can see it. All these years together under the pressure of Kings Landing and she knows his tells. Something is not right. When it comes to him, her intuition is screaming, but she can't yet make sense of the warning. Elia watches as he sits gingerly on the edge of the bed. He leans over and places one hand on the bed over her legs as his other hand reaches out to cup her face. She can feel his calloused thumb, a permanent gift from his years of playing the harp, as he gently rubs it against her cheek. His eyes are so beautiful, hauntingly so, and they pin her still. Is this the moment that will shatter her?
"You are a beautiful woman Elia Martell?"
Not expecting these words from her husband and not feeling particularly beautiful, she hiked up a brow in doubt. A deep chuckle pushed past his lips.
"I know you might not feel it true, but this moment aside, you are beautiful in form and heart. I wish you could see yourself the way I do. While we may not have been a love match, I have never regretted our union. Do not think I am deaf to some of the unkind words spoken just barely out of your ear. No matter what, please know that I think your beauty and I am grateful that you were my wife and the mother of my children."
Elia felt a flood of emotions. Damn the blasted fickleness of emotions after childbirth. Looking back at their marriage, they had moments like this. Quiet, intimate, filled with genuine care and affection. Could this birth be the resurrection of her marriage? She didn't know and felt unsure.
"Rhaegar, I do not know what to say."
"There is nothing for you to say. Just find comfort in my words. I fear I do have some news unfortunate news. I probably should have told you sooner, but matters were uncertain about your health after Aegon's birth. I thought it better to wait, and now that you have been healing and getting better, the time has come for me to speak on what I must do."
Elia froze. Her mind raced with matters that could require his attention, but he feared to tell her until she had improved health.
"El, I do have some matters to attend to in the Riverlands. My father is unable to attend the wedding of Lord Stark's heir to Lord Tully's daughter. It is an insult not to have the crown represented at the wedding of two great houses. While my father may not care about insulting the Lords, I cannot in good conscious not attend as I will become king after him."
The Riverlands. The Stark-Tully wedding. Lyanna Stark and her husband in the same space. While she knows the girl is only but five and ten, young with a young woman's heart no matter how Northern she maybe, she could easily fall for Elia's husband if he opened the door. Well, hadn't he already?
Clearing her head, Elia forced herself to ask the question she knew she didn't want but needed answering. She was the daughter of Lorenza Martell, the Princess of Dorne, with such a mother Elia knew the value of information.
"Better to know sad news my dearest sunray so that you can plan for the best possible outcome than to have it revealed in the aftermath of the chaos. You miss things and become sloppy, resulting in consequences you cannot stop. What then? Was the delayed protection of your feelings worth the true protection of your life or your house? I think not."
Reaching over with her free hand, Elia held her husband's wrist, and his palm rested on the bed beside her blanketed legs. Leaning in, she asked him three questions.
"A part of me can't help but wonder after Harrenhal that you going to this wedding is just an excuse to see Lyanna Stark. Am I right? Are you going to this wedding to see her knowing that the realm with speak of it? Is it your intent to once again shame me before the kingdom?
Rhaegar's hand moved from her face to find purchase in her hair, and he pulled her forward—resting his head against hers.
"My intent is true. As the Crown Prince, what I do is for the best of the realm."
"You haven't answered my questions, Rhaegar." Her dark brown eyes peered up into his indigo orbs.
"I am not going to see Lyanna. I will not bring you any more shame, Elia."
Elia eyes tracked her husband's cool expression. His eyes traveled over her face, where his gaze settle on her full lips. Tilting his head, he pressed his warm, dry lips against hers. He pulled his other hand out of her grip, held her head in both his hands and devoured her in a kiss. A sweet kiss that spoke of goodbye.
"I will return. Trust me, Elia. No matter what trust in me."
Elia nodded for she had no words to say what she felt at that moment. Rhaegar looked down at their son and gently placed a kiss on the crown of his head. At that moment, her son decided to make his presence known as he let out a disgruntled cry.
Perhaps her son could sense his father's mummer's farce. Elia put her best face forward and gave her lying husband her best serene smile. She had learned well how to navigate the swamp that was Kings Landing nobility. Using such skill on her husband for the first time in their marriage, Elia felt the shatter as it vibrated down to her bones.
Yes, a liar he is. It was not his words that gave him away, but rather the rapid beating of his blood in his wrist that contradicted his real intent. Elia is reminded of her brother Oberyn's words on a hot day in the water gardens.
"Everyone has a tell when they lie, Ellie. The question is, are you clever enough to find it."
It was then that her brother taught her how to determine if a person was lying by finding that beat. He told her she first needed to ask questions that she knew the answer too so that she could learn a person's inner rhythm. When a person is honest, their rhythm always beats true, but when they are evading or outright lying, the beat changes.
Rhaegar's beat felt less like the butterfly flutter she was used to and more like a pounding of drums with irregular syncopation moments. This was a beat she had heard before when her husband told his father that he had not planned to overthrow him by a Great Council vote. She knew that to be untrue as that was why there was a tourney at Harrenhal, to begin with.
The next day Elia saw her husband off. He held and kissed their daughter, having said goodbye to their son in the nursery. Rhaenys wept for she did not understand why her Kepa was leaving her behind. Elia wished she had an acceptable answer for her oldest child. Sadly, she feared Rhaenys would never understand her father's choice, but like her mother, she too would have to navigate this world of men. It made Elia hurt for her daughter that her first lesson with the cruelty of men would come at the hands of her father.
Rhaegar pulled Elia into an embrace. She had little desire to reciprocate, but she couldn't be seen as unfeeling or apathetic though that is what she felt for this man. He kissed her. Ran his fingers through her hair, tugging her closer as he laid one final kiss on her forehead.
"Be well. I will see you soon, my dear, and until then, remember the words I spoke yesterday. You were the best of wives to me, and no one could ever take that away from you--from us. That is what we have. Let no man put asunder, El."
Elia closed her eyes and let him think her overcome with love when all she felt was anger and hurt. Opening her eyes, she watched as her husband pulled away with another melancholic smile. As his Kingsguard of Arthur Dayne and Oswell Whent followed behind, Elia called out.
"Rhaegar! Remember your oaths and vows, my Prince. As the best man among all in the realm, I trust you will do the right thing because the gods—old and new, detest an oath breaker. I know you would never do anything to jeopardize that."
Her husband gave her an awkward smile and nod before turning back towards the boat.
Elia sent Arthur a pointed look, and when her first love looked away with a broken expression, she knew that Arthur knew what this trip really was, and he hadn't warned her. Loyalty be damned. He was not loyal to her as a fellow Dornishman and not faithful as a member of the royal family. Too low on the hierarchy to warrant a clue from someone she was so close to. Seems as if incurring Rhaegar's friendship and loyalty was more important than the established relationship she thought they had.
Once her husband was on the ship, Elia turned back to Dragonstone and began to pray that the Gods would give her a sign of what was to come.