Chapter Text
Elia woke up early and stared in the darkness with the feeling that today was a very special day. They had lessened the quantity of pain-relieving potions that they gave her and she felt less light-headed, even if more in pain; but even so, she could find no explanation for the joy mingled with sadness that stirred in her heart and tried to make its way to her mind. She lay back and tried to get back to sleep but it was impossible. She could only stare at the pitch-black night – because as soon as she had been able to make her wishes clear, she had forbidden her attendants to let a candle burning at her bedside, fearful that if she succumbed to this relief from her nightly horrors, she would never be able to wean herself off – and wonder what she was failing to grasp.
It was already morning and the women were opening the shutters of her windows when she turned to Magdeen Dalt who had come with her first cup of tea and remembered. It was Ashara’s wedding day. She closed her eyes to shut the dampness off and set her jaw in a firm line.
“I wonder if Ashara’s already awake in the Water Gardens,” Magdeen said, as if reading Elia’s mind. “Oh what am I saying? Of course she is! She’s the bride, after all. I doubt she slept a wink last night.”
“She is sure to be the loveliest bride the sun had ever set its eyes upon,” Elia said honestly and almost jumped when a new voice joined in.
“I am sure Lady Ashara will make a lovely bride but I am equally sure that you were even more beautiful in the day of our wedding.”
As beautiful as your Northern queen? Elia wondered bitterly, astounded to see Rhaegar. What was he doing here? Lately, he had been respectful of her wishes to keep his distance. Did he have to break this habit today, of all days?
She inclined her head to show respect. “Your Grace,” she said without bothering to acknowledge his compliment. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
For some reason, he looked disappointed – disappointed.
“I was hoping we could break our fast together.”
Really? Why? What was he planning to do, establish the Conqueror-like arrangement? With his admiration of the man, Elia shouldn’t be surprised. She didn’t even mind the breakfast part, although she would have much preferred to stay with Magdeen and her other Dornish ladies, talk about Ashara and try to imagine the wedding at the Water Gardens.
But after the breakfast part, another part might come, at night…
Even Aegon had given Visenya one night out of ten. Was that what Rhaegar was planning? Dear gods, no! Not yet! The scabs of her burns had yet to turn to scars. And even if they scarred as early as this afternoon, she didn’t want him in her bed. Not now. Not ever.
He was looking at her with such concern. The perfect knight. The perfect husband.
Elia wanted to retch.
“Are you feeling unwell? Should I call the maesters?”
I’ll feel better as soon as you relieve me of your presence. Of course, she couldn’t say this.
“We can have this breakfast in my solar,” she said.
When he tried to help her rise, she squirmed away from him and looked at Magdeen who rushed to her side, followed by Valina Fowler. Rhaegar stood by and watched helplessly as the Dornish girls helped Elia out of bed. Once again, she had refused his aid.
He wasn’t going anywhere, though, and Elia would have shrugged if it didn’t hurt. Damn him to the seven hells, she thought. Breaking my fast with him means getting out of bed before they can apply my ointments. Her skin was burning almost like the day of the great fire. She felt like it was about to just fall off.
The women in the bedchamber started whispering between themselves in a hurry, clearly concerned. Elia seemed to be the only one who didn’t care what Rhaegar would think when he saw her. Even Magdeen, who she had become closer to in the months they had spent as Aerys’ hostages looked uncomfortable.
Ashara would have understood. But Ashara was back in Dorne, back home, getting wed, building a life which Elia would never be a part of. Mother, she wasn’t even a part of Ashara’s wedding day…
She expected to feel some dark gloating at Rhaegar’s horror when he saw the belt of red-brown, thickened, never to go away callus under her breast and down her belly. The mark of fire. The mark of Aerys’ madness and Rhaegar’s neglect. On his part, he looked determined not to look away and not show any reaction. His eyes widened, though, and Elia wondered if it was horror or shame and guilt. She found out that she did not care either way. She only wanted to push through this breakfast so she can have her ointments, see the children and hopefully meet with the septon heading one of the charities she patronized.
She could not refuse his arm, though, when he proffered it. She would just fall. So she took it, despite much preferring Ser Jaime’s support. At least he knew how to move, due to their practice of a month already.
The sight of the rich table didn’t surprise her. Rhaegar didn’t know anything about her day, so he had no idea that these days, she went only with some fruit and a handful of roasted nuts. But he seemed to be counting her bites, expecting her to go for the eggs. That he remembered her favourite food struck her as odd but the feeling was remote, as if it didn’t have anything to do with her. She didn’t even bother telling him that she no longer had a favourite food. Everything tasted of cinders. The smoke had damaged her throat and every bite was painful.
He was talking about their wedding day. Elia barely listened, instead thinking of Ashara, trying to remember the first day the younger girl had been brought to the Water Gardens. At the time, she had not known that the violet-eyed child would become such an important part of her life. And now, this girl was getting wed. A chapter of their life was truly over and the fact that Elia couldn’t be there was a painful reminder of all that was lost. Ashara had been ready to wait but Elia hadn’t wanted to keep her at the ready forever. Who knew when she’d be fit to travel? Besides, she knew for sure that Rhaegar would never let her leave the land where he could control her directly. For all his pretences that all was fine, he knew what a great offence he had given her. He would never run the risk of her not returning. Of losing his leverage against Dorne.
From time to time, she gave an ear to his words and each time, she was surprised at how naturally they sounded. Seated against each other at the table, they looked like any other couple, as if he had not betrayed her in every way possible, as if he had not brought another woman into their marriage, as if he broke his fast every day with her and not his other queen. If she closed her eyes and let her mind drift, she could almost believe the illusion.
Every House of note would be at Ashara’s wedding, Elia knew. Of course, Lord Dayne would lead his sister to the sept. Elia was glad that they had chosen the Water Gardens – if the wedding had been in Starfall, everyone would have talked about the recent birth of the so long expected heir of House Dayne. Lord Dayne had always been considerate…
Once, she had thought the same about Arthur. Angry with herself, she chased him away from her mind. If only she could do the same with Rhaegar…
She would have torn her own skin off if only she could have found the way.
Wasn’t he going to leave? Finally?
“Why are you here, Rhaegar?” she asked finally because she was tired of this charade. There wasn’t even the audience that they should play up to!
He looked uncomfortable. “I know Ashara Dayne is getting wed today and I thought you might need some company.”
His audacity shocked her. What was next, bringing his other wife to entertain her? Perhaps Lyanna Stark – no, Lyanna Targaryen now – could regal her with the glorious tale of Rhaegar demasking her at Harrenhal? Or liven un the atmosphere by pouring wine over someone’s head? Elia’s cousins swore that she did it at Harrenhal.
“I am ready,” she announced. “Excuse me, Your Grace, but I have to go back to my bedchambers. I have an appointment with the septon responsible for that home of aged men at-arms and I haven’t read the documents yet. I…”
“At least someone reads those,” he muttered. “The Seven see that Lyanna thinks she can memorize everything, only to fail everything. You really need to restore to health so you can take care of things.”
Ah. How charming! At one time, this new proof of his concern and loyalties might have concerned her; now, she barely registered the oh so kind sentiment.
The reality of what he had just said seemed to affect him more strongly than it did her. He blushed furiously. “Elia, I didn’t mean… I didn’t want to say…”
“You still said it,” Elia replied calmly and he gaped at her, shocked by her lack of concern.
She knew for certain that later – perhaps today or perhaps when she fully recovered – the reality of what had happened would dawn upon her fully. One day, she would have to show some goodwill and readiness to work with Rhaegar to save face, at least, and the throne for Aegon, of course. One day, she would have to listen to what he said and choose her answers accordingly. One day, she would care whether Rhaegar came to her bed because the thought of him touching her made her gag but his lack of desire would be vastly detrimental to her and her children’s standing. But right now, she could only think about the wine she would order for tonight, so she and her Dornish ladies could celebrate Ashara’s nuptials without anyone interfering. Somehow, it looked the only real thing into the illusion she called a life.