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She knew she was dying.
Ashara and Arthur tried to convince her firmly against the fact, but Elia knew her body. It felt like it did after she'd given birth to Aegon, when the Stranger had almost taken her and only the good work of the midwife and Aegon's cries had kept her tethered to the world. (Grand Maester Pycelle had been most unhelpful, proclaiming her a lost cause and leaving. But the Dornish midwife knew, and it was for that reason Pycelle had been all but banned from Visenya's birth, and the midwife rewarded with the title the Royal Midwife.)
"I worry for Rhaenys." Elia murmured quietly (weakly) into Ashara's shoulder. Elia was spooned into her lover's side, and Senya's head was pillowed on her mother's bosom, body sprawled across her mother's belly which had scarred silver from two babes that lived and one that didn't. "I wonder what will happen to her, when I'm gone."
Ashara stiffened beside her. "Elia, don't-"
"No, Ashara, listen to me. I am dying; I know it, you know it, the court knows it, even Rhaegar has noticed I am unwell! If our empty headed husband has noticed, then it must be so! Aegon is all but betrothed to one of the Stark line, and Visenya will wed either Aegon, Trystane, Tywin Lannister's son or if Rhaegar has absolutely lost his mind, one of Robert Baratheon's bastards, maybe Renly Baratheon himself. Perhaps Rhaegar will take his obsession with the prophecy farther and marry her to another of the Starks. I do not know but to know that she has options. Rhaenys has so few options for a high lord husband, and she is heir after Aegon, as Viserys will be Prince of Sunspear one day, I believe. I want her wed to a kind and gentle boy, who will not look down on her for being half Dornish."
"Quentyn-" Ashara started, before Elia let out a laugh, harsher than usual for her. "Quentyn might look at Rhaenys with awe, but it is a childish affection, and my nephew would soon grow to resent her, for being beautiful, for being outgoing, for being sociable, for being Rhaenys."
"Who, then, for her? Oberyn's boy and the Stark boy are both three years younger than her. Edmure Tully is six years older than her and old Hoster's already got his foot halfway out the door. He'd want them to settle immediately, and after Rhaegar's proclamation that highborn maidens wait until sixteen to marry unless there's an extreme circumstance... he'll need Rhaenys to follow the example."
"Willas Tyrell." Elia murmurs quietly, and Ashara laughs in a near hysteric manner, jostling Visenya, who voices her displeasure with a wail.
Ashara is off the bed and rocking her cranky toddler in an instant, settling her down before placing her in the crib they keep in Elia's rooms for nights like these. (There's a reason their maids are all Dornish or some of the many mutes Mad Aerys created during his reign. They spend more nights together in each other's beds than apart, while Rhaegar considers the universe and his promised prince. Rhaegar in fact has more in common with his ancestor Aerys I Targaryen than his father, except Rhaegar actually bothered to father children.)
Her lover climbs back on the bed gently, like Elia is made of glass and spun sugar. It would be endearing if she weren't sick of feeling so incredibly fragile all the time.
"Elia, you really think the Tyrells will accept a betrothal with Rhaenys after Oberyn injured their son?" Ashara asks gently, sweeping a curl back behind her ear and cupping her wife's face in her hand.
"Yes," Elia says as firmly as possible while pressing her face into her love's hand. "I believe that their greed and ambition will not allow them to deny, if offered. A marriage between House Martell and House Tyrell will help and heal trade between The Reach and Dorne, as well as relations in general." Elia is silent for a moment. "I know that Oberyn offered his eldest Dorea, in marriage, to Willas, and was turned down both by Mace and Willas. Mace because he looks down his nose at the Dornish and Willas because he knew what happened at the tourney to be an accident. Do you know what Oberyn told me the boy said? He said, 'You sent me the Maester who saved my leg; my House's own thought it best if we amputate it. Anyway, I've never understood the premise of trading daughters; and what daughter wants to be traded in place of a leg?' Ashara, that is the type of man I want for Rhaenys. Besides, it would give reason to keep their daughter away from Aegon. Rhaegar was accused of favoritism by marrying two women of Dorne, he'll not make the same mistake with our son. Varys' birds report that the girl is being groomed by the Queen of Thorns and already shows predisposition for the game at age six."
A coughing fit overtakes her, and she cannot speak for several minutes. When it stops, Ashara is there with water and the vial of medicine left to her by the Maester. (Oberyn's Maester; Pycelle was persona non grata with both Queens.)
"Hush, Elia, we'll continue this tomorrow. You've exhausted yourself. Rest, sweetling, you're not going anywhere just yet."
Elia's dark eyes fluttered shut as the medicine overcame her and Ashara had to resist the urge to, inexplicably cry.
It was like watching the sun set, knowing there were a limited number of sunsets left, and maybe Targaryen madness is transmittable through marriage, for Ashara surely does feel insane with denial, watching her lover die before her eyes.