Before Rhaegal departed from the Red Keep, he and Rhaegar had one last private conversation together in the renovated Maidenvault.
Rhaegal shared a revelation with Rhaegar that had his head spinning.
"You found a Blackfyre? Truly?" Without thinking, Rhaegar found his hand going to Dark Sister.
Rhaegar had spent much time reading about the Blackfyre rebellions and the instability they brought to the realm. Like many, he believed those pretenders were finally dealt with during their grandfather's reign.
Now Rhaegal was telling him that that wasn't the case?
"The glass candle led me to a survivor." For some reason, Rhaegar felt as though his brother was leaving out certain details, but he didn't raise the issue. "I have been monitoring her since."
Her?
Rhaegar's muscles relaxed a little. "Where is she?"
"Lys."
Rhaegar never would have guessed.
"I've been able to go through her mind," Rhaegal explained further. It did not surprise Rhaegar. He knew that the glass candles could do such things. Exploring dreams and even memories was possible. if you were skilled enough Unfortunately, while he had worked hard to get better at using the glass candles, Rhaegar was not yet proficient enough to accomplish such a feat.
"It's fragmented, but I pieced together much," Rhaegal began to explain. "She's the granddaughter of Daemon Blackfyre, the cousin of the Monstrous that had his head torn. Her mother was Daemon's daughter who died shortly after giving birth. The mother's name was Daella Blackfyre, and she was smuggled out of the Golden Company after her father was killed by the few remaining supporters he had left. They've been keeping the girl safe since then. She had a younger brother, but he's been missing for sometime now."
Rhaegar could hardly believe it. What they knew about Maelys Blackfyre's rise in the east was a bigger picture of the events. The minor details were clouded in mystery due to the distance between Essos and Westeros and the speed in which they happened. At the time, the Iron Throne did not have the extensive network of informants that they now held.
Rhaegar had wanted to believe that the Blackfyres died with Maelys, but as always those bastards were as tenacious as rats. Every time one of the pretenders was killed, another rose.
"How old is she?"
"Younger than us. Maybe by two years," Rhaegal said. "They're having her work in one of the pleasure houses, but not as one of the pleasure slaves."
Rhaegar's brow furrowed. "Why?"
Those Lyseni bastards were famous for their hedonism.
"I'm not sure." Rhaegal looked annoyed. "There's a bigger game afoot there, I know it, but regardless this presents an opportunity for us."
An opportunity?
Rhaegal stared at him. "I'm going to ask a favor of you, brother. One that might potentially shame you."
Rhaegar stared back. "What would you have me do?"
"To take her as your wife."
Rhaegar was stunned. "You want me to marry a Blackfyre?"
Why would Rhaegal want such a thing?
"Despite already finding a match for Daeron, we both know that a suitable bride for you is potentially more dangerous," Rhaegal said. "The Martells and the Tyrells are not an option. Mace is content where he is, but I don't trust his mother. I know her kind. That woman wants more, and she's not afraid to dirty her hands. She would do anything she could to have her blood sit on the throne."
Rhaegar knew it wasn't about him. It was about the lords that could not be trusted. Marrying into one of the strongest houses and producing heirs while his brother still remained childless would invite conflict, especially when many were dissatisfied with the crown's growing power. They would try to sow discord in the family for their own ambitions.
Rhaegar enjoyed his peace. He enjoyed his training, his books, his dragon, his harp, and his meditations. He was content to remain unmarried until after Rhaegal secured his own marriage.
"Why a Blackfyre?" He still had to ask.
"There will be less reason for the lords to try and argue that I am not the rightful heir when you have a Blackfyre for a wife," Rhaegal answered. "They're nothing more than outsiders now. Foreigners with a claim that has only diluted over time. Few will want to see her rise. We can also use her to end the Blackfyres once and for all. Her brother is likely dead, and even if he's not we'll have her publicly renounce any claims to the throne that past Blackfyres have argued for."
Rhaegar saw where his brother's head was at.
"Some might not believe that she's a Blackfyre."
They were going to think that it was just a stunt orchestrated by Rhaegal.
"There will be those who refuse to believe, but she will testify in person before the realm."
Those that did not want to believe wouldn't believe it no matter what they did.
"What of her?" Rhaegar was uncomfortable with the idea of marrying a woman against her will. He did not want to find his throat sliced open in the middle of the night. "What if she refuses?"
"She's stranded and alone, fearing every day for her safety." Rhaegal smiled. "She is unsure of when her situation will change, and it scares her. Marriage to a prince with a dragon sounds more ideal than getting sold to a pompous magistrate, don't you think?"
Well. When you put it like that.
It was a conversation that Rhaegar would think back to many times even as he flew together with his family from King's Landing to Casterly Rock.
The prospect of marriage was now a very real thing for him. To a Blackfyre no less.
Rhaegal told him that after the tourney at Lannisport was completed, they were heading to Lys personally to find the Blackfyre girl and bring her back. Already he had sent for Euron to return so that he could escort them, for Lys was potentially hostile territory.
It was a scandalous match. Not only was she a Blackfyre, but she was also working at a pleasure house. Even if she hadn't been touched, which was doubtful, it would be shameful if word got out that a prince was marrying a former whore. It would diminish his standing significantly in the eyes of many, which was another reason for Rhaegal to suggest the match.
Rhaegar could deny it. He could marry a Celtigar lady, or maybe even one of the Velaryon cousins of Monford. It would diminish the threat of his own marriage to Rhaegal, but not entirely. If they were not careful, they might be forced to burn down whole parts of the realm into submission.
Another war.
When pride and greed were involved, people were more than happy to set aside their common sense for a chance at what they wanted. Not even a dragon would dissuade them, especially now when none had seen the power of dragons with their own eyes. They would be more eager to take gambles.
For this, for the love he had for his brother, and to stay away from the throne for it was a responsibility that he did not want, Rhaegar was happy to take on this role and marry this Blackfyre pretender.
Hopefully he was able to find happiness along the way.
---
Brandon gazed upon Riverrun with some amount of interest as he and his family rode into the castle.
The castle was well-fortified in the confluence of the rivers Tumblestone and Red Fork. Brandon instantly picked out the moat the castle was famous for, which could be filled in moments of defense. In order to siege it appropriately, an army would have to separate its force into three separate parts as the castle moat would ensure that the castle was unassailable.
Normally that is. As with most things, a dragon made the castle moat useless, and no castle wall could withstand the heat of a dragon's flames for long.
Brandon and his family had been traveling for the better part of a few weeks, having left Winterfell for the upcoming tourney. Only his mother stayed behind this time in order to look after their aging grandfather who returned from his time with the mountain clans. A shame really. This tourney was shaping out to be a very important one for his family's future given what his father shared with him shortly after their departure.
'A royal match.'
He and Rhaegal were going to be connected through blood. It was a strange feeling to know that the person he looked up to was going to become family.
It had come as a surprise for Brandon. The Targaryens often just ignored the North and by extension the Starks, leaving them to their own fate. Rhaegal was different from previous Targaryens in many ways.
Still, to think that the king agreed. Four years ago, Brandon only greeted King Aerys in front of the court during the day of their arrival but did not speak with the man further. Based on what his father knew, King Aerys did not look favorably upon anyone who was not a Valyrian. That kind of king would not allow one of his sons to marry a Northerner of his own volition.
Brandon could only deduce that Rhaegal probably convinced him somehow.
'I wonder how the rest of the realm will take it.'
Brandon was looking forward to the reactions. He knew that many of the scheming lords were trying to get a royal match of their own, and yet it was the Starks that were conveniently getting one.
How funny.
A loud bark at his side caught Brandon's attention just as they rode into the castle's courtyard where Hoster Tully and his family were waiting for them, along with servants and knights.
Brandon noticed Hoster tense, as did his children and wife, when they noticed the massive direwolf beside his horse.
The direwolf was not alone. Two others accompanied the Stark group. Brandon's and Lyanna's were gray while Benjen's was black.
"Welcome, Lord Stark." Hoster spoke slowly and deliberately while keeping his eyes on the direwolves. They had grown strong and healthy in four years, now being as large as a pony.
"You have brought quite a sight to my castle."
Rickard dismounted from his horse while Brandon and the others did the same.
"I apologize for not sending word about the wolves," Rickard said as he walked up to the man, the two shaking hands. "After four years, they have become normal members of the family."
"Yes. I can imagine." Hoster didn't sound entirely pleased, but he did not comment on it further. "You must be tired from the journey. Come. We can enjoy ourselves inside."
To trade guest rights too.
"Your wolves-"
"No need to worry, my lord." Lyanna spoke before Rickard had a chance to stop her. "Winter here is well behaved, as are her siblings. They only bite if threatened. You have nothing to fear, unless you mean us harm."
Brandon forced himself not to crack a smile. Lyanna was ten now, and her mouth had only grown with her age.
Hoster looked peeved while Rickard shot the smiling Lyanna a warning look.
"My daughter speaks true if not out of turn. The direwolves are well behaved. They will not cause troubles in your castle."
Hoster gave a reluctant nod. "Very well."
'Isn't this going well already?' Brandon thought sarcastically.
Hoster's children were all giving wary looks to them as their mother ushered them into the castle.
Brandon paid closer attention to the two daughters of Hoster. He recalled their names. Catelyn and Lysa Tully.
'To think I might marry one of them.'
Catelyn was the likelier option. She was closer to his age, being only a couple of years younger than him. She was also more beautiful than her sister from what he was seeing, so Brandon would much prefer that match.
Unfortunately, such matters were not up to him. Brandon just knew that his father was eager to seal the match, especially after he got caught fooling around with one of the Umber ladies a year ago. It wasn't his fault, not really. Her ass was as big as her stature, and Brandon was curious to see if he could mount it.
To be fair, he had been successful. So he deserved some credit.
"You're thinking too much again," Lyanna whispered to him as they started to follow after their father and the Tullys. Servants led their horses to the stables while shooting looks of unease toward the direwolves.
Their guards trailed after them in silence.
"And you don't think too much, dear sister," Brandon fired back. "Father already reminded you to behave yourself during this trip, did he not?"
"Yeah, for some reason." Lyanna looked annoyed as she stroked Winter's fur as they walked into the keep. "He said it was important, but he did not tell me why it was. We're just going to be meeting more dumb lords."
Brandon didn't answer. His father had sworn him to secrecy, and for good reason. Lyanna was likely to tell everyone about the betrothal if she knew beforehand. Whether out of joy or anger was anyone's guess. He knew that his sister and Princess Shaena had written a few times to one another in the past four years, so there was a friendship there of sorts. Whether that meant that she would be happy with the match was another thing entirely.
It was in those letters that Lyanna bragged to the princess about her direwolf.
'As if the princess would feel jealous when she has a dragon,' Brandon thought with a small chuckle.
Benjen was too busy looking at the castle with interest to bother joining in their conversation while his direwolf kept close to his side.
Brandon was silently surprised that Hoster hadn't demanded that they leave their direwolves outside. He was also surprised that their father hadn't offered. While it was true that his father had overlooked the direwolves due to becoming accustomed to them, something which Brandon conveniently did not remind his father of, Rickard was also eager to appeal to the southern lord in order to make the match come true.
Both men were basically just trying to play it safe and suck up to the other for their own ambitions.
'Politics.'
Brandon hated the mere thought of it. If it was up to him, then he wouldn't bother coming down south unless Rhaegal asked him to. Then again, bedding the redhead in front of him who was looking like she was going to be a very beautiful woman if her mother was any indication was not an opportunity that Brandon wanted to miss.
Hard choices. Life was full of them.
Hoster Tully formally greeted them again in the Great Hall of the castle as Brandon and his family were treated to drinks and a meal while several performers graced the hall with music.
Brandon was seated next to Catelyn while his wolf made himself comfortable behind his seat, resting on his stomach in a lion's pose. His eyes were full of alertness as he followed the movements of all the servants in the hall.
Catelyn was still looking nervous while glancing over at the direwolf.
"That is…a magnificent creature, Lord Stark."
Brandon almost laughed. It was the first time they were speaking, and this was how she started?
"There's no need to feel fear, my lady. Frost will not harm you. He is a good wolf."
It was a weird sensation for Brandon at times, to feel something akin to emotions from his direwolf. It was the same for Lyanna and Benjen. Hells, there were nights where Brandon dreamed that he WAS Frost, hunting and moving as him. It was always strange waking up after each occurrence.
Sometimes Brandon wondered if he was capable of skinchanging like the Starks of the past, but whenever he tried to practice he failed.
It was frustrating.
"I see." Catelyn didn't look or sound convincing, but she still turned her eyes to him. "I read that direwolves did not exist south of the Wall. How did you find him?"
Brandon was genuinely surprised. "You know of direwolves?"
Catelyn seemed to take joy in his reaction as she nodded. "Some. I started reading about the North, once my father informed me of our possible future together."
Oh, so her father was more straightforward with her. In comparison, his own father had been more vague about his match.
Interesting.
It was almost silly, but Brandon found himself smiling after Catelyn's admission.
"It was an accident. Four years ago, when we were returning from the tourney at King's Landing, we happened to stumble upon them. Four wolves for us four children. Frost, Winter, and Shadow Fang there. The other is with my younger brother, Eddard."
Ned was going to be meeting with them here in Riverrun with Robert Baratheon and the heir to the Eyrie. Then, they would all continue together toward Lannisport.
Catelyn listened to his story. "I see. That sounds almost fantastical. The direwolf is the sigil of your house, after all." She pursed her lips. "I suppose it's not the only fantastical story as of late."
Brandon knew what she was referring to. "You speak of the dragons."
Catelyn gave him a hesitant nod. "Yes. I am not sure if you are aware, but there have been many stories coming out of the capital as of late."
"I assure you, they are probably all true. I have witnessed what Rhaegal is capable of myself."
Catelyn's eyes widened by a fraction. Probably due to the carefree fashion in which he referred to Rhaegal.
"You are friends with Prince Rhaegal?"
"Yes." Brandon saw no reason to hide this fact. "When he came to visit the North four years ago, we became friends. We have stayed in contact since. I'm looking forward to seeing how much he has improved in four years."
Before they had departed from Winterfell, Lord Manderly sent a raven to his father about what he had witnessed in King's Landing. The man's letter was filled with glowing praise about how much the city had changed in such a short amount of time. It made Brandon very eager to visit King's Landing again to see the changes for myself.
"Magic then." Catelyn looked uneasy just saying the word.
"It seems to be returning to the world." Brandon looked back at Frost who locked eyes with him.
"The Targaryens have always been….unique," Catelyn responded as she turned to her food.
A diplomatic answer.
"As fascinating as Rhaegal is, I'm more interested to hear about you right now, my lady," Brandon said, switching topics. "Tell me. If we were to wed, you would become the future Lady of Winterfell. Are you happy with this?"
Catelyn did not hesitate to answer. "You don't have to worry about me, Lord Stark. I'm more than able to do my duty. I am a Tully. Such an arrangement would be acceptable."
Brandon wasn't talking about duty. The last thing he wanted was a cold marriage. He did not want to go against his father, not really, but if he had to then he was prepared to walk away from the match.
He was about to probe further but stopped when he noticed Catelyn's cheeks reddened as she glanced at him. There was interest and attraction in her eyes.
Oh.
It appeared as if he had nothing to worry about then.
How lucky.
---
Petyr Baelish was angry. He was only nine, but he was aware enough to know what he was feeling right now.
And it was anger.
The boy stood in the courtyard of the castle and stared at the Stark sigil flapping in the wind with disdain. He had known this day was coming for some time now, but he still felt anger.
He had been sent to live in Riverrun four years ago now thanks to his father having won the favor of Hoster Tully in the previous war. Many times Petyr thought of himself as a part of the Tully family. He had grown up with them, after all. But as kind as Lord Hoster had been to Petyr's father, Petyr himself was still seen as an outsider by the man. Sure, Petyr accompanied them many times on their travels through the Riverlands, but there were also many other times when he was left behind.
It was unfortunate that he had not arrived in time for the tourney at King's Landing. After hearing about the dragons, Petyr had been excited to see them for himself as just as any other would. Instead, he had arrived to Riverrun just as Lord Hoster was returning from the city.
He thought it unfair to be kept away, but Petyr was smart enough to know not to raise a complaint. Just as Lord Hoster had welcomed him into the castle, so too could he kick Petyr out at any time. And that was the last thing Petyr wanted, for he had grown quite fond of living here. Namely, he had grown quite fond of Catelyn.
Petyr knew it was love. It had to be. He read about it. He was sure that Catelyn must love him too. He knew her better than any other lord out there. Certainly more than the damned Starks who only now just showed up out of nowhere.
Lord Hoster had forbidden him from sitting in on the feast today, saying that it was going to be a very important meeting between his household and the Starks. It was to iron out the final touches of a possible betrothal between the heir to the North and Catelyn, using the upcoming tourney at Lannisport as an excuse for the two lords to meet in person. It also gave Catelyn a chance to meet her possible future husband.
The mere thought made Petyr stew in anger more.
'It's not fair.' Petyr kept repeating that over and over again as he continued to glare at the Stark banners, hoping that they might catch fire.
Why couldn't it be him? Petyr did not understand it. He and Catelyn loved each other. That was more important than any damned wolf, wasn't it?
'It's not fair. It's not fair. Not fair. Not fair.'
Petyr would spend the night chanting these words over and over, hoping that Catelyn was not stolen from him.
---
Brandon and his family would spend a few days in Riverrun. In that time, he and Catelyn got to talk often, getting to know the other better. It was a privilege that might not have happened were it not for their participation in the upcoming tourney.
During these days, Rickard and Hoster spent a lot of time talking with one another as well. They often retreated to Hoster's solar in the keep.
The wolves conducted themselves well, and both Lysa and Catelyn were eventually courageous enough to pet them. The same was true for the younger brother and heir to Riverrun, Edmure, although he was more excited than afraid.
Brandon also got to know Lady Minisa a bit as they shared a few conversations. A beautiful but frail woman. He was amazed that she was able to give birth to three children with how delicate she looked. Or perhaps it was the three births that had caused her to become frail. Brandon did not ask.
Catelyn also introduced Brandon to her childhood friend, someone called Petyr Baelish. Brandon had never heard of the Baelish house before, but Catelyn informed him that it was relatively new and not very wealthy, owning only a small keep in the Vale.
Catelyn introduced the younger boy as someone who was like a brother to her, so Brandon made sure to keep him in mind for the future. Beyond that, Brandon did not give Petyr much thought even as he sometimes felt the boy glaring at him. Why? Who knew.
It was shortly before Ned arrived that Hoster and Rickard would make a formal declaration to the entire castle.
Brandon and Catelyn were now officially betrothed to one another. For the first time, the Starks and the Tullys would be united in blood.
---
When Ned arrived at Riverrun with his direwolf, Robert, and Elbert in tow, he was greeted by his family and the news that his brother was now officially betrothed. There were some small celebrations as Ned embraced his father and was welcomed by Lord Tully, but before long he was left surrounded by his siblings and friends.
"Hahaha!" Robert laughed as he offered a few pats to Brandon's back. "Looks like you're going to get tied down too, wild wolf!"
Brandon looked amused by Robert's words as they stood in the courtyard greeting one another. Ned's direwolf was sniffing his siblings and fellow wolves in greeting as well.
"You were the one who was betrothed first, Robert."
Robert looked a tad annoyed by the reminder. "Don't make me think about that. I'm already pissed by what my father did without telling me."
"Why?" Brandon asked. This was the first time they were speaking since the betrothal was announced a year ago. "From what I hear, Princess Elia is a beautiful woman."
"Not like any of us will marry a princess," Elbert joked.
"The Dornish can be cunts, even if their women are fine," Robert said with a scowl. "I just did not want to marry her after Jon told me how much she was sucking up to the prince. She was also rejected by the fucking Lannisters. What am I, the last choice?"
"Robert." Ned's tone was full of warning as he glanced at his sister. He did not want her to be hearing this.
Lyanna snorted when she noticed. "You say that like she has a choice." She added in her own opinion.
"She's also probably a pain in the ass." Robert ignored Lyanna's words before looking at her, his eyes studying her with meaning. "I tried talking to the old man for a different match, but he never game a straight answer."
Ned noticed Brandon shooting him a questioning look, to which Ned just sighed.
Over the past four years, Robert had come to visit Winterfell on a few occasions. The first time was when Ned returned to his home to receive his direwolf after his father and Brandon wrote to him about the unexpected discovery.
Four direwolf pups, so far south of the Wall. It was unimaginable, and yet it happened.
As random as the discovery might have been, Ned found great joy in his direwolf, whom he named Grey Storm. It was as if he found something in himself that always belonged. Sometimes he wondered if that was how the Targaryens felt about their dragons.
During those visits, Robert seemed to at first be amused and then eventually enamored by Lyanna, finding her personality refreshing. There were many times where he tried to talk to her to get her to open up to him with mixed results.
Lyanna's only opinion about Robert seemed to be that he was "loud."
As if she had any room to talk.
There were many times Robert confided in Ned his growing desire to be with his sister, stating that it would be a great union for both of their houses.
Ned would not lie. He would not be opposed to seeing his sister wed his best friend. The only problem was that Robert had begun to find fascination in many of the women in the Vale. At first, Ned did not really see a problem with this. Robert was not wed. He did not have a betrothed. He could have his fun. On the other hand, Ned also knew the type of character his sister had. She would not find such behavior amusing.
It wasn't really up to Ned to decide such things, though. His father would decide what Lyanna's future was. Ned only knew that Robert had sent several ravens to Storm's End to his father about his wishes. In the end, there had been a response, only not the one that Robert wanted.
A different match had been arranged between Storm's End and Sunspear. Robert was set to marry Princess Elia Martell in a couple more years.
Robert had not been happy when he first read the news, and he still wasn't. He was planning on speaking to his father about it in the upcoming tourney to try and get the betrothal broken.
Ned could only pray that his friend did not do something foolish. Offending the Martells carried risks. Not that Robert wasn't already acting foolish. Despite having a match set, Robert still continued with his ways of bedding several maids and other women in the Vale.
It made Ned think. Was it just because of the match that Robert was doing this, or would Robert have continued acting this way even if he was betrothed to Lyanna?
Ned did not know how far the negotiations had gotten between his father and Lord Steffon, or why Robert's father chose the Martells over the Starks. There were many unanswered questions, but Rickard did not give a clear answer when Ned had asked, saying only that he would understand later.
That was only more confusing.
As the atmosphere settled and Ned rested with his family before they departed for Lannisport, Ned reflected on all the changes happening around him. Not only was Robert betrothed, but now Brandon as well. Lyanna and Benjen were still young, and Lord Arryn was still looking for a suitable match for Elbert.
'And me?'
Ned was the second son, the spare. Winterfell was going to be Brandon's one day, and so his match needed to be carefully chosen. Ned had more freedom in this as his marriage would not be as impactful. He was silently thankful for this.
As he was already ten and four, Ned had begun to consider this more and more.
His mind always seemed to arrive at the same answer as thoughts of a certain fair lady with dark hair and beautiful violet eyes danced inside his imagination.
---
Doran welcomed Elia with open arms as she finally returned to Sunspear after a long absence.
Right away, Doran could tell that there were many thoughts plaguing his dear sister's mind, and not just about their mother's health either.
Rather than try to pry, Doran led her back to the castle where his lovely wife and baby daughter greeted Elia.
"She's beautiful!" Elia seemed to brighten as she took in her new niece.
Mellario allowed Elia to hold the sleeping girl. "She is, isn't she?"
Doran had written to Elia about his daughter's birth the previous year, but this was the first time that she was seeing her.
"Arianne, is it?" Elia smiled down at the sleeping girl. "I'm certain she will be a bright girl one day."
That was Doran's wish as well.
It was a much needed reprieve for them both. Unfortunately, the mood could not remain happy forever.
Mellario took the sleeping Arianne back to her chambers as Doran led Elia to their mother's room.
"So Oberyn is not back yet?" Elia asked with a downcast expression.
"I have written to him already, but you know how he is," Doran said with a sigh. "With how often he moves through the Free Cities, tracking him down has been quite a task."
Oberyn was still meant to be in exile, but the current situation changed things. They did not think that their mother would fall ill so suddenly. Even if they angered the Yronwoods by allowing Oberyn to return to Sunspear in order to see their mother, then so be it.
"Mother has been asking about him. And about you," Doran added in a softer tone.
Elia's face hardened. "I will see her."
"I know," was Doran's only response.
No more words were said between them. There was much that Doran wanted to ask his sister, but he realized that now wasn't the time. He didn't have the right attitude for it. The speed in which their mother had deteriorated happened so quickly that he was still reeling from it.
Princess Loreza Martell was still lying on the bed when Doran entered her chamber with Elia, her eyes closed. Her body was thinner than it had any right to be, and there were many times that she was confused or just plain delirious. The maester reported several infections in her body that were no longer healing. The only thing he could do for her now was minimize her pain with milk of the poppy.
It was a slow death, one that she did not deserve.
"Mother!" Elia did not waste any time to kneel by her mother's side.
"Elia." Loreza's eyes fluttered open. Her voice was weak but underneath there was still strength. Even at death's doorstep, she did not fully let herself succumb. "You are here."
"Yes, mother." Elia was crying. Doran did not fault her for this. He too had cried, in private. "I'm sorry I'm late. I'm sorry I failed you."
"Oh, my sweet child. You did not fail. It was I who failed, in a great many things."
Elia only cried more as she held Loreza's thin hands.
Loreza tried her best to glance around her chambers. "Your brother is not here."
"I'm sorry, mother." Doran looked down. "I have yet to find him."
Oberyn would not be happy to know about this, but the fault lied with him.
"No matter." As always, Loreza was quick to forgive her youngest. "I wanted him to be here to hear this, but I must say this while I still can. Doran. Elia. You must be strong, and you must be careful. The world I grew up in no longer exists anymore. You will have new challenges to contend with, challenges that I never did."
Doran listened. Their mother had been conserving her strength, and it seemed that she had done so just for this moment.
"I'm sorry you could not have your prince, Elia," Loreza said while trying to caress Elia's cheek. "Even the Lannisters denied us. I pray that you are able to find happiness with your betrothed. The stags have their own charm. Never forget. The men have their weapons, but we women have our own tools."
"Yes, mother." The crying Elia did not argue. She just listened and accepted.
Doran still remembered when their mother returned from King's Landing four years ago. When it became abundantly clear that the king was not going to offer either Prince Rhaegal or Prince Rhaegar to them, Loreza switched targets and began negotiating with Tywin Lannister. She wanted either Elia to marry Jamie Lannister or Oberyn to marry Cersei Lannister. The Lord of Casterly Rock refused both offers. Even their mother's friendship with Joanna was unable to sway the man and his pride. Rather, it merely softened the tone of his rejection. But it was a rejection nonetheless.
"You must be cautious, Doran." He shoved his thoughts aside when he heard his mother addressing him. "There are many moves being played, and the lions are trying to insert themselves into something that can only bring them ruin. You must see it too, the complex web of alliances that plague the realm. Sunspear will have its part with Elia, but you must be careful. The lines are becoming murky, and the dragons will not forgive. Do not let them cast their flames down upon Dorne once more. I am not sure if we will survive it this time."
It was the last bit of wisdom that his mother could give him, for the realm was already moving past the world that she once knew. While she lied there dying, the next moves were already being made. Even in death, the world was not kind enough to give them any kind of reprieve.
"Do not resent the queen for not visiting me," Loreza added last, her tone becoming increasingly weaker. "I was the one who hurt her first. She is no longer the girl that I met in court all those years ago. Her family is her strength, and she will protect them. Do not let petty slights cloud your judgements, my children."
Loreza was unable to say anything else as her breathing became more haggard. Doran quickly called for the maester even as Elia remained by her side, her tears staining the sheets and the floor.
That night, the Princess of Dorne lost consciousness, never to open her eyes again.
By the end of the week, Loreza Martell would be dead, and Prince Doran Martell would ascend to the throne of Sunspear as the new Prince of Dorne.
---
Cersei hummed a happy tune as she completed the final touches to her drawing. She had spent the better part of her day finishing this as Prince Rhaegal was due to arrive today.
'It's perfect.' She squealed as she held up her drawing. The drawing was that of the prince's dragon, Ancalagon, with her and Rhaegal riding on it together. Both she and the prince were wearing crowns as they were one day going to become the king and queen of the realm.
It was perfect, wasn't it?
This whole tourney was set up by her father in order for him to try and negotiate with the king one last time. Cersei just knew that the king would agree.
There was a small voice in the back of her head who whispered something else, who spoke of another refusal. After all, why would the king change his mind now when he hadn't already?
'It's only because he hasn't seen the wealth that we have!'
Sure, her parents said that King Aerys had visited Casterly Rock before, but that was a long time ago. He just needed to see the majesty of their wealth to understand that she was perfect for Prince Rhaegal. Also, she was ten and one already. Her mother said that she was the most beautiful lady in the realm. Surely more beautiful than the stupid princess. Prince Rhaegal would be enamored with her once he saw her.
Yes, she had still been a child four years ago. Everything was different now. She was confident that she would be more successful this time.
Cersei came out of her fantasies when she heard two voices arguing outside her door. Well, more like one. The other was timid and only offered weak responses. Before she could stand or hide her drawing, the door to her chambers was shoved open by her twin, Jaime, while her handmaid, the timid and stupid-looking Jeyne Farman, looked frightful as ever as she stood behind him.
'I told her to be watchful.'
It was her fault really. Cersei never should have trusted Jeyne with such a task.
"Brother." Cersei greeted him. She was not expecting to see him right now. She stood against her desk as she tried to hide her drawing from view.
Jaime was dressed in a set of his finest clothes with the sigil of the lion stitched on his doublet.
"Where have you been, sister? Our mother has been calling. She wanted you to bring Tyrion from the library to the steps. The Targaryens are going to be arriving soon."
The mention of the little monster that everyone said was her brother was enough to sour Cersei's mood. That thing wasn't her brother, no matter what her mother said. He nearly killed her!
It was just something else that she was grateful to the prince for. It was one of his servants that saved her mother's life. Cersei was confident that Prince Rhaegal only did it because he wanted to get in her good graces, to make her fall deeper in love with him. It was unnecessary, but Cersei appreciated it.
"Hey, what do you have there?" Cersei wasn't able to react in time as Jaime went around her and snatched her drawing from her hands.
"What do you think you're doing!?" Her cheeks quickly reddened in both embarrassment and anger as Jaime looked over her drawing while Jeyne quivered by the door.
Jaime scowled as he handed her back the drawing, to which Cersei grabbed it and quickly hid it again. Not that it made a difference now. Her brother had seen it.
"You drew yourself with the prince?"
"N-No!" Cersei bit her lip as she thought up an excuse. "It's supposed to be King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. The septa taught us about them today."
Jaime didn't seem to believe her. Cersei did not miss the jealousy in her brother's eyes.
"Are you still dreaming, sister? The prince is in love with the princess. Prince Daeron says so. You don't have to keep worrying about that, you know?"
What?
Whatever embarrassment Cersei might have felt died at that moment. Only her anger remained.
"Don't talk about stuff you don't understand, you idiot!" Cersei began to shove him out of her chambers, not caring that Jeyne was caught along the way. Stupid girl should have just moved. "I'm going to be the queen, you'll see!"
Jaime wasn't able to offer a response as Cersei slammed the door in his face.
That should teach him.
'What does he know?' Cersei fumed as she looked at the drawing one more time, taking care to make sure that it was not ruined.
The tourney was still some weeks away, but some lords and knights had already started to arrive, eager to see the royal family and their dragons for the first time. Soon, she would be dining and dancing with her prince. Cersei was sure of it.
Her heart skipped a bit when her ears twitched at the sound of a very peculiar but powerful noise in the distance. It was faint but also distinctive. It was the first time that she was hearing it, but immediately she knew what it was.
The roar of a dragon.
Cersei knew what it meant.
Her prince was finally here! And she would finally have him.