Chapter Text
The scent of sulfur filled the air as smoke blanketed the night sky. Princess Elia Martell could not see much out of the small window in the ship's cabin, but she had been able to see Kings Landing burning with the Red Keep its most vibrant flame. She and her children had barely escaped with their lives with the help of a young Jaime Lannister and her brother Doran. A calculated man she knew her brother to be, but a careful one who rarely showed his hand until he decreed the moment as just right. Her brother had sent their Dornish fighters, and her Uncle Lewyn led them as per King Aerys's demand, but he also sent a small army whose task was to see to her safety. They had been successful, for she is alive to look out at a city that was caught in the crossfire of madness, ambition, with stray arrows of personal or familial entitlement. In the end, so many lives lost.
"Was it worth it, Aegon?" Elia whispers as she brings her son's small head to her lips to place a gentle kiss on his crown.
*****
A year had passed since Elia left her old life. She lived, and for that, she could not find a complaint. Her brother ensured her safety—both of them. After weeks sailing on the seas, Elia took her first true and real breath of relief when she saw Oberyn waiting for her at the docks in Myr.
"You'll be safe here. For now, the babe will be of little notice, especially with a little visual diversion." Oberyn told her as they sat in a carriage, leaving the port and heading out of the city.
Oberyn had meant to turn flowers and nuts into a paste that would cover Aegon's most noticeable Valyrian trait--his hair. Elia was faithful about its application, and her babe thought it all good fun. Rhaenys had so many questions at the start, but now she doesn't seem phased by the change in her brother's appearance. Nor does she question why we no longer use names such and Elia, Rhaenys, or Aegon in their home. No, those people died with those names, and in rebirth, Meara, Ariadne, and Terus came into existence. Perhaps the attention of her cousins keeps her attention away from what once was.
They all live in this manse. Elia or Meara, as she has grown accustomed to hearing. Her brother and his children. Perhaps it is time to add Lord Harmen's daughter, Ellaria Sand, to the manse occupants. The pretty young woman came to escort Oberyn's young daughters, who had resided with Doran. She has stayed, and Ellaria and her brother seem to have an interesting way of seeing the world that compliments their—union.
Elia tries not to think much about her past or about what was. She put her children before her, and they were her focus and the source of her greatest motivation. A descendent of survivors she is, and it's in that awareness that she finds her strength to live. She also learned that to be unbowed, unbent, and unbroken did not mean one did not feel pain. Physical pains were not unfamiliar to her, though she finds the weather in Myr better for her constitution. It's the heart's pain that can kill the soul, and the body follows not long after.
The survivor in her knows she owes Rhaegar nothing. They swore oaths to each other, and he was the first to break them, and in doing so, nullified her commitment to keeping the faith. That doesn't stop the flooding of anger and genuine hurt that surrounds her to the point where she cannot take a breath even if she knows that taking the breath is the difference between living or dying. The pain of what she thought they were and his betrayal of them, it submerges her in a sea of blackness until the tears have no recourse but to fall because to keep them inside would mean her death for she would surely drown.
As Elia sits outside on her balcony, she admires the scent of jasmine and how different the air was from that night. It does not take her much to remember the acrid smell of burning. Her mind drifts to the latest news from Westeros. She had been aware that Rhaegar and his new wife survived the war, but the country was still unstable and in much disarray. While the survival of Rhaella was a blessing and that of her youngest children's survival, there was worse news than good.
It seems the young Stark woman gave Elia's husband another son. How fortuitous since he has lost the one she had handed him? The rebels either lost their lives in the fight or left for the Wall. Children warded as hostages. Loyalist rewarded—well, all except for Tywin Lannister. Seems the man lost his life and his House. She could care less about the man, but she had worried about Ser Jaime. He was so young, torn between living honorably and being loyal. It caused her a small amount of pain to see the pride he had in his vows die a little each day as he served in that castle.
A furred tail brushed against her leg, drawing her attention to the unexpected sensation. Ah, Ariadne's cat, a large kitten as black as the night sky. She wonders if there will always be a Balerion the Dread to follow her daughter.
"Can you protect her to the end of your days?"
The feline's only response was a long purr as he arched his back before rubbing against her as he walked away.
*****
"I want them gone!"
"A bit too late for that, dear sister. The children have already seen them. They know what they are."
Elia angered gaze bore into her brother. On the day of her son's tenth nameday, he received a curse though she knows her brother Doran would feel differently.
Dragon Eggs!
What were they to do with them? All these years, she has kept her children away from the treachery that is their past, and in one fell swoop, her brothers undid what she spent a decade building.
"Why would you and Doran do this?"
Elia just stared at her brother. A man with such a beautifully cruel face that sent her a tender look. She knows her brothers have their reasons, and they would not intentionally put her or her children in harm's way. They loved her and her children—but this was just...
"They were found hidden in the bowls of the Citadel. A friend of mine from my time there discovered their whereabouts and informed me of..." Oberyn began, his voice seemingly focused on being daft it appeared.
"No, you fool. I did not ask where did you find the blasted things. I asked why you would bring them here and give them to my son." Elia's voice quaked. Her body felt like it was vibrating for all to see.
"Hmmm...yes, that is the question I heard as well, Oberyn. I suggest you answer it, my love, or you will find yourself in deeper dismay than you find yourself now." Elia sent a mental prayer of gratitude to the Mother for Ellaria at that moment. Her brother's paramour's voice was quiet and delicately crossed.
"Do you wish Rhaegar had them instead?" Oberyn asked her in a calm tone, and yet that did nothing to stop Elia from reacting as though she had been struck.
"I wish them to be gone and to never exist in my world as a true reality. This knowledge can only lead to tragedy for my children, for my son, Oberyn!"
"If the words of the Red Priest from the cities are true, aren't we all headed for misfortune. You know I would be the last person to give anything Rhaegar Targaryen speaks as truth any merit, but you have heard the priest, and now these eggs were discovered when for so long, they were hidden. We were not raised on the belief of chance, sister."
Elia turned away from her brother and Ellaria. She followed the sound of the children playing outside. Her daughter, so very gifted with a staff, fought her cousin Obara and held her own against the talented fighter. She knows her brother loves all his children profoundly just as she loves hers, but she wonders if Obara realizes she is her father's greatest source of pride.
The victory cry of her son as he fought his trainer—a man who followed them to Myr two years after she fled Kings Landing with his help, pulled Elia's attention away from her daughter and niece. Elia found her lips pulling into a smile, even as her mind was torn by the appearance of dragon eggs, but then Jaime Lannister has been making her smile for many years now...six in fact.
Upon killing King Aerys for attempting to destroy Kings Landing with wildfire and spending two years in the cells. Seems while Rhaegar could sentence Tywin to death, it had been harder to make the same choice for Jaime but once it was discovered how much wildfire his father had under the city's tunnels. News her brother Doran ensured the realm knew. In the end, Jaime was granted the choice of the Wall or exile. Her man chose the latter.
"I got you, Papa!" Terus's voice floated up to her window. How she no longer thinks of his old name or that of his sister, at least not until this moment. Jaime is papa to them. He is their father in every way. It took Elia a moment of calming her love down when he saw the eggs. She sent him away before she turned to deal with Oberyn. Gods, her lover, was livid.
"Did you now?" Jaime's sly voice followed their boy's.
"You know he did, Papa!" Their five-year-old daughter Esabelle yelled out in defense of her brother—her hero. The dark-haired child with emerald green eyes launched herself on her father in his prone position on the ground. Years later, her body healed enough to carry another babe. She rarely remarks to herself the irony of her birthing a girl when the potential lack of a daughter caused Rhaegar to stray, but then she wonders was that really the cause.
Perhaps it was a simple as her not being able to birth another child. News from Westeros told of a country that was rebuilding under the steady hand of a man who lost his wits for a moment. Word is Queen Lyanna has birthed Rhaegar three sons and each birth announcement came with news that the Queen was not expected to survive. She had although it seemed Queen Lyanna has suffered more losses of babes than birthing them. They say the King says naught about the loss of their babes. He reads, trains with his sons, and rules.
It is known never to speak of the King's former wife or their children. Many men have been blooded by his hand when they have talked about them. To Elia, Rhaegar is still as hard to understand as he ever was.
Elia thought of all she lost and gained since she fled, but she could not ignore her brother's words.
"We will keep them, but we will not act to resurrect a dying era. If they are meant to be, then destiny will find a way to bring them to life."
Turning away, Elia left the room to find her family. A small niggling sensation told her the simplicity and joy she learned to see in this life had changed, the differences would be subtle until the alterations unraveled and reforged itself into a new kind of normal.
*****
The new normal came sooner than she had thought. A year after the arrival of the eggs, Elia and her family traveled to Norvos. Mellario and her sons had come to visit her family. It was the rare time Elia had to see her niece and nephews as well as her good-sister. Elia knew Doran and Mellario's marriage was strained. Still, she used the distance in her marriage to allow Elia to contact her family and safely communicate with her brother.
One night the eggs hatched upon falling from a weakened wall where Jaime had hidden the chest. A wall shared with their son's room, the eggs fell onto the fire warming her son's chambers on an unusually cold night. The next morning her Terus noticed the dragon eggs cracked open in the hearth. A scream from Ariadne reached into their subconscious and yanked Elia and her lover from their sleep. Jaime stumbling to find the location of Ari's cries. He was nude with only his sword in hand, and Elia not far behind.
Elia can still remember how wide her eyes had gotten. Her son had reached into the fire as though he did not feel the flames licking at his flesh, and he pulled out three small dragons.
*****
They were grown and no longer babes. The dragons were grown, and that means many things to a mother. Seven years have passed since that fateful morning in her son's chambers. Her eldest daughter was twenty name days, and her son was eight and ten, and before them stood enormously fully-grown beast from a time of cautionary tales.
As soon as the dragon came out of the flames, Elia and the men in her life began to plan for when they could live in the aftermath. While now small, she knew the dragons would not remain so for long.
Oberyn reached out to a friend he had made during his travels, a sultan from the Great Moraq. The man was a great warrior and beloved by his people. He was slowly making his way up the continent and increasing the size of his empire. Elia had hosted the man in their home on occasion. She must admit if she hadn't loved Jaime the way she did, then this man would have been a welcome distraction, but alas, she is terribly in love with Jaime just as Sultan Mehmed is enthralled by his wife.
Sultan Mehmed had suggested putting the beast on the isle of Marahai. Elia knew very little of the place, but when Oberyn shared the existence of dragons with Mehmed, the Sultan said this island was the perfect place for them to hide as the creatures grew. The island had a small population. It was large, but hard to traverse with its dense plant life. It was a place that frequented sailors who needed to replenish their fresh water supply and fruit. It was not ideal in any way, Elia thought until she heard Mehmed speak of the legend.
People from the most eastern parts of Essos told a tale of the island being nothing more than a large mountain surrounded by the Jade Sea for as far as one could see. The darkness came in what was known as the Long Night. No one ones how long the darkness remained until one day, the sun rose. When the sailors returned to the island, they said the mountain was gone, and all that was left was the land shaped into that of a crescent moon with two smaller islands nearby. It is said that the water in the bay is hot and bubbles forth---the smell of sulfur in the air.
Elia will never forget Jaime's words,
"If Rhaegar believes dragons will return, and word gets to him, isn't it better he thinks they are coming from an island all believe ideal to the existence of such creatures. If Mehmed doesn't think those from this region would find it odd, then perhaps news would move a bit more slowly towards the West."
Elia and her family had little recourse. She had to trust her brother—and Mehmed.
They stayed in Moraq until the dragons got too large for even Mehmed to disguise, and by then, the dragons were able to hunt and feed themselves. Elia watched as her son and her daughters sailed with their dragons, yes theirs for the large black dragon followed Ariadne, the white dragon had taken a great love to her Terus, and the green dragon was always found near Esabelle.
No one knew how the green dragon had bonded to Esa as she was not of Rhaegar's blood. Jaime had posited that maybe her own Targaryen blood from Daenerys had been enough to connect their child, but that idea warred with the words her former husband once spoke to her.
Elia's mind drifts to the day Rhaegar told her about the wood witch and the prophecy she served his grandfather.
" She said that the prince that was promised would come from the lines of Aerys and Rhaella Targaryen. It is why their father, my grandfather King Jaehaerys insisted that they marry."
Then she thought of Aeg---Terus's birth and how the maester told her she could not bear another child. Rhaegar looked across the room as he held their son, his eyes vacant as he said, "There must be a third. The dragon must have three heads." The blasted man told her that it was up to him to bring the three dragons into the world. He had his destiny to see the prophecy through.
Did he, though? Was it Rhaegar's task to produce a third daughter? Was it his job alone to bring the three heads to life?
As she considers the existence of fully-grown dragons, Elia can't ignore Rhaegar's beliefs as a mummer's farce, but she does question his interpretation of them.
Elia thinks about what Jaime shared with her in confidence—the unorthodox closeness between him and his sister Cersei. Love for one's family in such a way is very much a Targaryen trait. She looks towards the man and wonders if the rumors of Aerys Targaryen's lust for Joanna Lannister went beyond inappropriately suggestive comments.
She remembers a time when Rhaella had reached out to Elia in the aftermath of a particularly nasty attack by Aerys shortly after Elia's wedding. Rhaella kept calling her Lorenza, and it scared her.
"I am so sorry, Lorenza.”
"Please forgive me. I didn't mean to leave her unprotected."
"Who do you speak of? What forgiveness for there is nothing you have done wrong, Rhaella?"
"No, I will be condemned. I know I will. I didn't mean it. I hadn't planned it. He was to be hunting in the Kingswood. I didn't know he had stayed. I am so sorry I sent her away for the day. I am so sorry, Lorenza...so sorry."
Not knowing what to do, Elia just held Rhaella and tried to comfort her the best she could. A demon from the past was with them, of that Elia knew, and she feared that her good-mother had not shared the worst of it.
“Oh, Lorenza. It was only once, but it had been enough."
In her heart, Elia knew that Jaime and Cersei Lannister were sired by Aerys Targaryen.
As she thinks about her love, she can tell that Joanna Lannister's blood was strong, but Elia can see Aerys in the shape of his eyes, the small indentation in his chin, and the length of his fingers. Jaime shared these similarities with Rhaegar, and she saw these traits in two of her children, who were sired by two different fathers.
This is why her youngest can climb onto a dragon and ride it over the Jade Sea at three and ten. While they do not speak of it. Those with living memories of Westeros silently speculate to themselves why Esabelle can do what most wouldn't dare.
*****
In the five years since Essos has officially been introduced to dragons, her children had made enemies, or rather they used their dragons in a way that made for enemies. Ariadne had always struggled with how slaves were treated during their time on the continent. She said she understood servitude but was abuse necessary. Could one choose to serve to have shelter, food, and pride in a good day's work?
Essos was an odd place when it came to slavery. It was a practice neither Elia nor her family had not grown accustomed to. They were a reality and the lives these people led ranged from honored to abused and as a free woman herself, Elia found it hard to look at this from a black or white perspective. But then she asked herself was this a topic that had room from gray and deep in her heart she cried out--no.
Westeros did not practice slavery but were they indeed any better in treating the poor or those unable or unknowing in how to protect themselves. If things had been different, Elia could have found herself sold to slavers. She could have been an Alys Oakheart.
If she found a way to Essos without her family's aid, what would she have done to survive? Servitude can seem like a blessing when dying from hunger or violence is your only option. Who was she to choose for another? It was not her call, but she could support the need for dignity towards those who make that hard choice. And what of those who were taken and sold--stripped of their freedom.
That was the crux of Ariadne's crusade and the one her siblings fought aside her for. They freed who they can and improve the treatment of those who chose to live in servitude using the might of their dragons and the liege of people who have chosen to flee with them. Her children train them to fight, to protect themselves, and learn how to choose--an ability we take for granted.
While the people who follow them can always leave, and her children encourage it, their army—for that is what it is--is getting bigger. They settle in Meereen, where slavery is now illegal. It is the home they have made for the displaced. The people call my son Fhysa, and he is loved by the former Ghiscari slaves. The old Masters who chose to remain in the city have found a way to tolerate him. At times she wonders if this was what the early reign of Aegon I looked like.
It was a battle hard one, but she has found her children are much like cats who will put even the most spirited mouse down until it dies. She thinks his wife, Missandei, a lovely young woman from Naath who had been stolen and enslaved as a child but freed on one of Ariadne's campaigns, is her son's best diplomat.
Her Esabelle had married Sultan Mehmed's only son, Manhet, and she knows her daughter and the young man are evenly matched in temperament. He does not try to make her more than what she wants to be, and for that, Elia will always have a warm spot in her heart for her good-son. Jaime will not admit it, but he too feels the same.
It is Ariadne they worry about. She is driven and bold. In a world of men, her daughter grates, and at five and twenty, her singleness tends to inflame those who would rather see her wedded and bedded. The assumption being if you can tame her then you can control her beast. They do not realize, Elia notes, that any man with such intent towards her daughter would not find himself Ariadne's bedwarmer let alone her husband. No, if Ari desires to marry, which Elia knows she does, she will require a certain kind of man. If and when that man becomes apparent, all will know. Of that, her mother's heart is sure.
As a mother, Elia's fear always remains on the surface of her heart though she often smiles at her children. There is a reason for all of this. Elia had known that for many years now. It didn't change how her heart clenched as her son stood before her and his sister as he read a letter from Kings Landing—a letter from King Rhaegar Targaryen requesting their assistance.
Winter had arrived.
The dead had risen.
The Long Night was near.
A Song of Ice and Fire would begin.