Chapter Text
283 AC—Red Keep, King’s Landing
Elia gently tucked Rhaenys under the bed covers and gently brushed her hair back from her forehead.
It had taken her nearly two hours to get her distraught daughter to bed. She had been upset because her father hadn’t come to see her, despite being back in the City for days now.
Even thinking of Rhaegar made Elia’s jaw clench these days—the fool had just returned to the city days ago, only Seven knew where he had been gallivanting in past eleven moons.
He had re-emerged only after Ser Gerold Hightower had been sent to look for him, after nearly eleven moons of absence.
He had returned to the city with Ser Gerold at his side, and a host of ten-thousand Dornishmen at his back. The very host which Aerys had secured by holding her, and her children hostage, to blackmail her brother into providing men to suppress a Rebellion which had been born of Aerys and Rhaegar’s folly.
It made Elia’s blood boil, that her brother had to bend to the whims of the Mad King just because of the fact the man was holding her, and her children hostage.
It was not for the first time that she cursed herself for her stupidity of coming to court—and leaving the protection of Dragonstone after Aegon’s birth.
Oh, she had not wanted to return to court, so soon after giving birth. But Aerys had been growing impatient to be presented with his grandson, who had nearly reached five moons, and had ordered that Aegon be presented to him before he reached his Sixth Moon. So she had begrudgingly travelled to King’s Landing, leaving the safety of Dragonstone.
It was in the same moon that disaster had struck, with Rhaegar taking the young Stark girl and only days later Brandon Stark the heir-to-Winterfell, had stormed into the city with his companions, calling for Rhaegar’s head.
She had been as surprised, and stumped as the rest of the Realm about Rhaegar taking Lyanna Stark.
When he had crowned her at the Tourney of Harrenhal, and humiliated Elia in front of the whole Realm. She’d been furious and confronted him that night but he’d placated her with words and soft promises—of just humouring a little girl. Of how he’d just been wanting to bring a smile on a little girl’s face, and meant nothing else.
She had still been furious and humiliated, but had naively let it go for the moment. Shortly afterwards, she had learnt she was with child again.
And thus, they both had left for Dragonstone soon after, where she had become bedridden due to complications of having another pregnancy so soon after giving birth to one child.
During that time Rhaegar had become distant, spending all his time shut in his solar writing letters, or buried in books and tomes he had gotten from his Great-Uncle Aemon, or the ones he had requested and gotten from the Citadel.
Then, after she had given birth to Aegon in the first moon of the next year, and the Maester had declared she would not be ready for childbed again for the next few moons due to Aegon’s early birth having left her with complications. Rhaegar had simply responded with “the Dragon must have three heads” and taken to the road before the moon had finished with only Arthur, and Oswell Whent for company.
His letters had been few and far in between if they came at all. And than the stupid bastard had kidnapped a little girl of only fourteen summers—despite her being betrothed, to his cousin no less—and disappeared of the face of the earth for the next eleven moons, with no care for the chaos he had left in the wake of his actions.
Elia had been in King’s Landing with both her children when Aerys had murdered Lord Rickard, and his heir Brandon Stark. Followed by the slaughter off Brandon’s companions—Elbert Arryn, Jeffory Mallister, Kyle Royce and their fathers, and the two hundred men Lord Rickard had bought with him, along with the men-at-arms that had accompanied the fathers of Brandon’s companions.
All in all a near three-hundred men had been slaughtered in that one day.
And Aerys, the mad fool had then called for the heads of both Eddard Stark, and Robert Baratheon.
War had always been inevitable the moment Aerys had slaughtered the Northmen unjustly—despite what the Mad Fool had thought, that if Lord Arryn bought him the heads of Eddard Stark, and Robert Baratheon’s he could win the war before it started. But everyone with a sane mind knew, there would have been no way Lord Arryn would have surrendered his wards, not after his own nephew had been executed by Aerys.
Elia had been forbidden to leave the capital, by her goodfather—for he wanted all the members of the royal family in the city for their own “protection”. But she had been allowed to maintain her own retinue guards from Dragonstone, and household for both herself and her children.
The next few moons had been hard, as she anxiously kept up with the War, and there was only news of Royalist defeats all over the Realm. There had been a brief hope when Randyll Tarly had halted Robert Baratheon’s advance into the Reach at Ashford. Through it had been a inconclusive Battle it had stopped the seemingly unstoppable Robert Baratheon’s campaign in the Reach. The Lord of the Stormlands had been forced to flee northwards, with the Reachmen on his tail.
For a moment, there had been a hope that the Royalist Host under Jon Connington gathered in King’s Landing would be able to march swiftly, and pin the Stormlord and his forces between themselves and the Reachmen, and crush him for good.
But Baratheon had cleverly maneuvered, to ensure he would not end up caught in the middle of the two Royalist hosts.
After that, Mace Tyrell had abandoned the chase to invade the Stormlands, leaving Jon Connington to finish Robert Baratheon. Connington had managed to corner him in the Stoney Sept, but again the Rebels had come out on top—rescuing Robert Baratheon and the Royalist host under Connington, had been scattered by the forces of Hoster Tully and Eddard Stark.
It was only than that Aerys had realised the seriousness of the war—much later than his own court—and begin to act accordingly. He had removed Elia’s personal retinue of guards from Dragonstone, and taken her and her children hostage.
And gracelessly reminded her Uncle Lewyn of the fact in the Throne Room during a full court session, no less and sent letters to Sunspear to blackmail her brother Doran into providing troops for the Royalist host.
And he had also sent, Jonothor Darry, and Barristan Selmy to regather what remained of Connington’s scattered host.
And called for the return of Rhaegar—yet despite, having returned to the city more than a week ago. Her husband—knowing full well that she and their children were being kept in confinement by Aerys, had not asked for their release, nor had he come to see them either.
It had been Ser Willem Darry—the Master-at-Arms of the Red Keep—who had come to speak with her to inform her that her husband had returned to the city, and she had sent him to ask Rhaegar to come and see them.
It was this conversation that Rhaenys had overheard, which had led to her getting excited thinking that her father was coming to visit after so many moons away from her—and adding to the fact they had been confined in their quarters for nearly a moon and had not been allowed out, with only each other and the occasional visits from Uncle Lewyn, and Ser Willem for company, that had only increased her desire to see someone other than her mother and brother. And given the fact she couldn’t go outside to play due to their confinement—and combined with the fact she had been cooped up in this room for more than a moon now—it had only increased her desire to see her father.
But in the evening, when Elia had started preparing her for bed, Rhaenys who had been waiting for her father had a meltdown.
Elia didn’t blame her daughter for it—nay, it was not surprising that her little girl had a meltdown. She had been expecting something like this for days now. Rhaenys was a inquisitive child who preferred to spend her time outside in the gardens, or running around the hallways with her cat.
To be confined in their quarters—despite how large they may be—and unable to go outside had bored her. The last straw that had broken the camel’s back had been Rhaegar not coming to see them, when she had been expecting it.
A child could only endure so much disappointment before it spilled over.
Elia sighed gently as she brushed her hand through her daughter’s hair again.
Her cheeks were flushed red from the exertion. Elia leaned down to kiss her chubby cheek gently.
Elia was glad her daughter had fallen asleep, and even more so that Aegon had been in the other room during this whole debacle, and hadn’t stirred during the whole meltdown of his sister.
Because she didn’t think she would have been able to handle her toddler’s meltdown, while her infant screamed in sympathy. Because infants had an uncanny habit of crying in support, when another one of them was distraught.
Elia shuddered at the thought of dealing with two crying children.
A sudden rapping of knuckles on the door bought Elia out of her thoughts.
“Princess Elia,” a voice called out, and she instantly recognised it as Ser Willem. “It’s me Ser Willem. I have bought word from Prince Rhaegar. Permission to enter?”
She quickly got up from the bed, and walked towards the door, and opened it letting him inside.
She put her finger on her lips, gesturing him to be quiet, and inclined her head towards Rhaenys’s sleeping form to tell him the reason.
His gaze softened a bit as he looked at her daughter.
She quietly gestured him to follow her to the balcony of her rooms, and he followed her without a word.
Once they were out on the balcony, and away from the earshot of her sleeping daughter. Elia turned to Ser Willem, and asked;
“What did Rhaegar say?” She asked quickly. “Is he coming to see us?”
“Nay, Your Highness,” Ser Willem replied. “His grace is far too occupied with matters at hand to come visit right now.”
Ser Willem kept his head lowered as he spoke, and so he didn’t notice her jaw clenching at that. The man had been away for so long, and they had been hostages of his mad father for moons, and he did not even deem it important to come and check on them—his own wife and children.
Ser Willem’s next words jerked her out of her thoughts.
“But, he has given permission for me to escort you to him.”
Elia raised an eyebrow at Ser Willem.
“Today itself?” She asked.
“Aye, Your Highness. His Grace has summoned you to his Solar, and has ordered me to escort you to him, as soon as his message is given to you.” Ser Willem replied.
Elia schooled her face into a cool expression. But inwardly she was furious. Rhaegar’s Solar was two floors below the quarters they were confined in, and the man couldn’t be bothered to come and see his children.
“I have no one to watch over Rhaenys and Aegon right now,” Elia began carefully. “I know my way to my husband’s solar, and can go there by myself. I would greatly appreciate if you would remain here to look after my children while I go to speak with my husband.”
The reply was immediate;
“I apologise Princess, but I am under strict orders to not leave you unattended for your own protection.” To his credit, Ser Willem’s tone was earnest.
But Elia had gotten the answer she had been searching for. She was still a hostage, and wouldn’t be let out of sight. She had hoped that with Rhaegar returning with a Dornish Host at his back, that he would have been able to get her and her children released as hostages, ot at the least restore their right to freedom of movement at the very least within the Keep itself.
But alas that was not the case.
Elia straightened her back and looked to Ser Willem.
“You will have to give me time to send word to the Septa,” Elia began slowly. “And wait for her to get here to attend to the children. Then you may escort me to my husband’s solar.”
Ser Willem bowed his head in acknowledgement.
The halls of Maegor’s Holdfast were dim, the torches burning low in the darkness. The Red Keep was beginning to quiet as courtiers and servants retreated into their nightly routines, so they did not encounter anyone of note on their way to the Solar.
Elia walked a step behind Ser Willem, as they walked in the dimly lit corridors towards the door of the solar.
Ser Willem stopped just outside the door, and opened it for her, gesturing with his hand for her to step inside.
Elia stepped inside the her husband’s solar, the solar spacious and lavishly furnished. The walls were adorned with tapestries that depicted the famous dragons of House Targaryen—Balerion the Black Dread, Vermithor and Vhagar.
One of the tapestries had the Conqueror and his sisters worked into it, Aegon standing between his two sisters with his Valyrian Steel Circlet on his head, and Blackfyre in his hands.
Targaryen themed tapestries were not the only furnishes to feature the room, on the floor, a Myrish carpet of the highest quality hugged the floor tightly and arranged around the room in an orderly fashion were bookshelves filled with tomes and books.
Her husband was seated on a silver chair behind his desk, and a map of Riverlands was spread across the table, and Rhaegar was leaning over to study it.
He looked up the moment the door closed behind Elia with a creak.
His expression visibly softened as he looked up and saw her, and he got up, his chair scraping back as he rose from it.
“Elia,” he said warmly, as he walked around his desk to stand in front of it, and he stopped only a few steps away from her.
“My love,” Rhaegar began. “I hope you have been well—”
Elia did not let him finish and with three quick steps covering the distance between them.
He opened his arms as if expecting her to hug him tightly, but instead she just raised her hand and slapped him hard, right on his cheek.
Her hand found it’s mark with a sharp-satisfying Thwack.
Rhaegar’s head whipped to the side from the force of her slap, and her red handprint bloomed on his cheek. Rhaegar slowly turned his face back, and raised his hand to nurse the sore spot. His expression was completely bewildered, and shocked.
But he did not say anything, so Elia took her chance to continue.
“HOW COULD YOU?” She screamed. “YOU BASTARD, YOU LEFT ME AND YOUR CHILDREN WITH YOUR MAD FATHER. WHILE YOU WERE OFF ABDUCTING A LITTLE GIRL! AND ONLY SEVEN KNOW WHERE YOU WERE HIDING. WHILE WE WERE BEING HELD HOSTAGES BY YOUR MAD FATHER.”
A sharp rapping of knuckles on the door, followed the end of her tirade.
“My Prince, is everything all right,” Ser Willem asked, an undertone of worry in his tone.
Neither Elia, nor Rhaegar responded to him. Elia was still out of breath, and huffing due to her outburst.
While Rhaegar’s eyes still full of shock, were fixed on her.
It had been foolish of her, Elia realised, to strike him— despite however much he deserved it. He could have her dragged back to her chambers, with a simple command and that would not serve her interests. No—she needed to remain calm, and deal with this idiot, to get herself and her children out of the mess they were trapped in.
Another sharp rapping of knuckles followed on the door.
“Your Grace? Princess Elia?” Ser Willem called out again. “Do you require any assistance?”
It was Rhaegar who finally answered.
“No, Ser Willem,” Rhaegar replied, though his eyes remained locked on her. “We do not require any assistance. No one is to enter this Solar, unless I give a express command allowing otherwise.”
The room fell silent again after his response. Rhaegar kept his gaze fixed on Elia, and she looked right back into his purple eyes. They remained like that for a few moments before Rhaegar drew his gaze away with a sigh.
“I understand that you are frustrated and frustrated, due to the actions of my father. But you must not strike me again, for I am not your enemy and care for you and our children,” Rhaegar said firmly.
Elia scoffed at that.
“You have the audacity to say that?” She asked incredulously. “You—who only the Seven know where—have been gallivanting off with a little girl, while your wife and children were left to rot in the clutches of your mad father. You who left while I was still bedridden after childbirth, and our newborn son was barely a moon old, and our daughter needed her father more than ever. Nay—you left when instead you should have been looking after your children and wife—your family—who you claim to care for. You abandoned us, and you shamed and dishonoured me to go after a little girl who was betrothed to your own cousin, no less.”
“Elia, my love it needed to be done, for the greater good of the Realm and House Targaryen.” Rhaegar attempted to calm her down.
But it only managed to make her angrier.
“What greater good?” She snapped at him, clenching her fists in anger. “What greater good justifies you abandoning your wife and children. While abducting a little girl of fourteen summers?”
“I did not take Lady Lyanna,” Rhaegar said sharply. “I rescued her from a marriage she herself did not wish for, one that would have left her unhappy. And we fell in love during that time, and decided to marry.”
Elia’s went wide as she stared at him in disbelief.
“You married her?” she repeated, her tone full of disbelief.
“When I ascend the Throne,” Rhaegar continued, as if he had not heard her. “She will be acknowledged as my second wife, and you both will ascend by my sides as my Queens.”
“Have you gone mad?” Elia spat out. “Do you remember the last time a Targaryen king took multiple wives? The realm bled for years, and the Faith Rebelled. And in the end that King had to die for it all to end.”
“It will not end like that again,” Rhaegar replied. “I intend to take no other wives than you, and Lyanna. My child with Lyanna will be the last I father. And I will have the three heads of the dragon that we need.”
Elia made a strangled sound, she couldn’t help it. He had put a babe in the girl… a girl who was nearly half her own age.
“The song of ice and fire,” Rhaegar smiled. “it needs to be fullfilled to save the Realm. The dragon must have three heads—Rhaenys, Aegon, and Visenya. You could not give me my Visenya. Thus, I needed a third. And the Stark girl, she filled the prophecy perfectly. Elia, it is the song of ice and fire. I have left Lyanna at a safe, and secured location she will join us once she has given birth to Visenya.”
Elia felt sick as she realised it. He did not care about anything not her, not Lyanna Stark both of them were just a means at end for him to fulfil this prophecy of his.
She took a few steps back, to get away from him.
He is mad, she realised, completely, utterly and fully mad just like his father. But worse—Aerys’s madness was plain for all to see. But Rhaegar was a polished madman, he had hidden it behind his charisma and charm.
He was obsessed with this prophecy—just like his father was obsessed with fire. He was man who was willing to use anyone and everyone, to fulfil his dammed prophecy. With no concern for their well-being at all.
She did not believe for even a moment that he loved the Stark girl. No—Lyanna Stark was just another means to an end for him, just like she herself had been Elia realised it now.
She had once thought he had cared for her, if not loved her because she was the mother of his children if not his wife. But no she was just another means to achieve his goals, but she knew from his speaking of three heads of the Dragon that he atleast cared for their children—atleast she hoped he cared for them as his blood rather than as a part of his prophecy’s grand design.
She needed to use that to get herself and her children away from this mess.
Rhaegar had turned around, and walked back to the table, bending over it as he studied the map again.
“I intend to march against the Rebels as soon as the rest of our host arrives in the city,” He said, without looking up from the map. “And after I return I intend to change things around here, and deal with my father once and for all.”
Elia’s heart beat faster in her chest. Of course, she agreed that Aerys needed to be dealt with, but she needed to know what Rhaegar intended to do for the protection of her and the children.
“What about us?” Elia asked. “Where are we to go while you march to deal with the Rebels?”
Rhaegar looked up with a surprised look on his face.
“You will remain here in the Red Keep,” He replied plainly—as if it was obvious.
Elia paled at the thought of remaining under Aerys’s clutches any longer.
“Surely, you do not intend to leave us here?” She began cautiously. “We are already being kept in confinement, which should not continue now that the Dornish host has joined our forces.”
Rhaegar's face darkened.
“You should not have been confined at all,” he said darkly. “The Dornish forces would have joined us regardless, once I had spoken to them. My father, should not have resorted to taking you three hostage to enforce his demands. I will get you three released from confinement before I leave.”
Elia waited for him to continue, but he didn’t, so she decided to speak again.
“If you mean to move against your father,” Elia began cautiously. “You cannot leave us here.We would be used against you as leverage, and your father would make us his hostages again. And use us to rid you of the Dornish support you are all but assured to get if you move against your father.”
Rhaegar seemed to consider her words. Elia desperately hoped this would be enough to convince him to send her and the children away from this city. If—and that was a big If—Rhaegar managed to defeat the Rebels, and then tried to turn around to deal with his father, it wouldn’t be as simple as that. He was marching his army in his father’s name to defeat the rebels; it wouldn’t be easy to simply turn the same army around, to overthrow the same king they were fighting in the name of. And Aerys… Aerys was not a man to be caught unawares. He was paranoid, suspicious, and increasingly unstable—he already saw betrayal in every shadow. He would expect it. Prepare for it.
And when it came, the realm would not see a clean transition of power. Nay, it would be a big mess.
A mess Elia didn’t want for her, and her children to be involved in, at all. No, she wanted to be far, far away from this city when it all came crashing down.
“My father, will never harm you,” Rhaegar said firmly. “Mad he may be, but he is no kinslayer. And I have plenty of loyalists in this Keep, who will lay down their lives before letting any harm come to you. If I send you away from the city now, my father will grow more suspicious than he already is. And I cannot afford that until I am ready to move against him. When the time comes for me to move against him, I will have you smuggled off to safety but until then you will have to remain here.”
Elia was flabbergasted with his response. Did he really believe that? Did he really believe Aerys wouldn’t harm them just because they were his blood.
“Correct me if I am wrong, Your Grace. Robert Baratheon, carries your blood as well,” Elia pointed out. “That too the son of your Father’s favourite cousin—Lord Steffon Baratheon, whom your father had spent his youth with, and had trusted the most. But that didn’t stop him from calling for Robert’s head, despite Robert having done him no harm. He has no hesitation in being a kinslayer, and I wouldn’t trust him not to harm us either. Not when he already looks down on me, and my children for carrying Dornish blood.”
Elia all but spat the last word out, it was true. Her goodfather had refused to hold Rhaenys, and Aegon both when they were presented too him because they “smelled Dornish”.
Rhaegar turned around again from the table to look at her, and she saw doubt flickering on his face as he considered her words.
“And as for not letting him get suspicious. He is already suspicious of you,” Elia pressed on, she needed to press on any doubt he had. “Has been for years now—the Spider, and the Lickspittle Lords of the Small Council have been filling his ears against you for far too long now. And as for getting us smuggled out—well the spider has a habit of ruining your ploys a lot doesn’t he.”
They both knew which ploy she was referring to—the Tourney at Harrenhal had been a ploy by Rhaegar, and his supporters to call a Great Council to get Rhaegar named Prince Regent, and Protector of the Realm. But it had been ruined by Aerys showing up to the Tourney, and it was a open secret at the Court that it had been Varys who had caught the wind of the plot, and exposed it to the King.
Whatever you said about the man he was a excellent spymaster, and it was hard to hide things from him. It would not be hard for him, to uncover any plot and foil it. The only reason both her, and Rhaegar were able to openly speak against the King here because this Solar was one of the only places in the Keep that was safe from spies. And because even if Varys caught wind of the plot, and told the King. Aerys would not act against Rhaegar until after the Rebellion was defeated. Because Rhaegar was the last man who could rally the Royalists to defeat the Rebels, and the last Commander of note that the Royal Family had who could lead their forces into Battle.”
Rhaegar was still lost in thought, and Elia could see he was considering it still. She just needed to deliver the last decisive blow to convince him.
“You said you needed three heads of the dragon,” Elia said carefully, watching his reaction and he didn’t disappoint, and he perked up at that. Yes, she decided, this will convince him.
“Yet two of those heads remain here, within your father’s reach. You said they were needed to save the Realm. If you leave Rhaenys and Aegon here they will be in danger, and you already have the Stark girl and her child secured. But two of those heads are still at risk.”
Rhaegar said nothing.
And Elia saw it then—at last—uncertainty.
A/N:-
Special Thanks to Cyphx_Anyang618. It was during one of our lengthy discussions, that I actually came up with this idea 😁😁😁. And a lot of credit to Cyphx because he suggested a lot of ideas for this. Through I do owe Cyphx an apology for releasing this so many months later than I had intended to.
Special Thanks to Sammy_9674 for helping me out when I approached him with this 😁😁😁. As always he’s been a delightful, to work with he helped me with each and every paragraph of this fic, and helped me over all parts I felt uncertain on and he was the one who provided the idea for Elia’s last line “that two of your three heads are still at risk”. So, thankyou for Sammy for being a delight as always, and being such a good friend and taking your time to read each and every line of this fic I sent to you on Insta messages 💙💙💙!! You are a delight to have.