CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
━━━━━━━━━
Under love's heavy burden do I sink.

ROMEO AND JULIET,
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
━━━━━━━━━

               A CROWN IS ALWAYS PAID for in blood. And Elia would always remember how it began — a crown of winter roses, blue as frost, ice-blue, ice-cold, laid upon the lap of a daughter of the north. Could a crown of flowers change the world so?

She decides that Rheagar cannot have everything the Seven Kingdoms have to offer. Not this time.

Her children belong to her as much as they do him. She will not shrink herself so that her children may claim his dragon blood, his follies, his faraway dreams. While Rhaegar took three Kingsguards with him to wherever he is hiding the Stark girl, only Ser Jaime is left to guard her children. Sweet, brave Jaime, who Elia knows would try his best but he is a green boy, no matter what he might want the court to believe. Rhaegar must know this as well as her and still, he had left them without a second thought—he could've sent them to Dorne, to Dragonstone, anywhere.

     Rhaegar had loved his children, yes, in his sad, sullen way but there had been disappointment as well. Rhaenys is prone to laughter, so alive, bursting with impatience and Aegon is an infant still, but the glint in his mischievous eyes bears no resemblance to the lonely Prince. Those are her children more than they are his — more sun than dragon.

No spirits of Summerhall come to visit their dreams, no prophecies of doom ever capture their childlike imaginations. They can play at being sullen but their lilac eyes laugh and laugh and laugh.

     "She smells Dornish," Elia remembers the king hissing when Rhaenys was presented to him. Everyone had thought it a grave insult except for Elia. He thought to humiliate me, yet gave me the biggest compliment.

     Astoria begs for Elia not to send her away but it is the only way. "It took me a day and a night to bring Aegon into the world — through it all I have never lost faith, and I won't lose it now. I can't," she tells her quietly. "He must live."

"He will. But you must come with us," Astoria insists fiercly.

"You know that I cannot. I will not risk my son's life so that I am safe. This way no one shall ever know of this. He will be safe somewhere far away from here and he will live a good life," she says. "And one day he will be told of the sacrafice his mother and sister made so that he would live."

Astoria's face twists as if someone has emptied her lungs of air. She loves Elia's children dearly. "I know, Elia. But I can't bear to leave you. If the Holdfast should fall —" she whispers and suddenly there are tears in her eyes. Astoria doesn't want Elia to send her away. She wants to keep her close, comfort her with tale or song while the world falls apart around them, hug her tight and never let go.

     But of course she understands. Elia cannot let both of her children die should Robert Baratheon take the city. She cannot do the same with Rhaenys, for she is nearly three and her looks are known to the world. If someone would get suspicious they would hunt both of them down and so it is only one child she sends away. Rhaenys is too old, too known by those at court, but it is a simple matter to switch a baby in its cradle.

     She can see the guilt in Elia's eyes, as if she isn't doing enough, as if she is the evil.

"When?" Astoria asks, and Elia smiles through the tears welling in her eyes.

"In the morrow."

     Astoria does not ask her if the plan will work, what happens if the King sees through their schemes. She does not ask because she trusts Elia, but because she would do anything for her friend. There is this plan, or nothing.

"Promise me to tell him the story one day," Elia begins with begging eyes. "Tell him about his sister and mother, how they died so that he could live. I want him to know that as long as he is still alive to hear the tale, then it was worth it. Make sure that he is loved, will you?"

Astoria can form no words through her tears, instead she nods quickly.

     "That's all I want. He does not need to avenge us or fight back his crown only to be king of the ashes," she says. "Only a good life."

     Astoria nods. "Are you afraid?"

     Elia's smile falters a moment before admitting, "Yes."

     "You will not bow, you will endure, you will survive," Astoria swears. "It won't be long until we see each other again."

     Yes, Elia almost replies, we will go home and we will stand at the top of the Palace in Sunspear and listen to the waves break on rocks below, hear the children's laughter, feast upon the oranges at the Water Gardens, and we will never return here, not ever.

     Elia believes it. She refuses to stop believing in their unspoken lies.

Astoria looks at Elia, and she sees it then: the fear in her eyes, the uncertainty about what is to happen. As Elia steps into her, holding her as tightly as she can, Astoria squeezes her fiercely, pressing her face into Elia's shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of her. Warm tears roll down her cheeks, and she can hear Elia's breath hitching as she tries to choke back tears.

"When spring comes, we'll be at the Water Gardens together," Elia declares, her voice thick with emotion, her fingers twisting into the back of Astoria's gown. "You swear it?"

"I swear it," Astoria immediately replies, throat so tight, she can scarcely breathe.

Resolutely pulling back, her eyes shining with unshed tears, Elia lifts her free hand, brushes tears from Astoria cheeks with the backs of her fingers. She catches her wrist, presses a kiss to Elia's fingers, and her friend nearly breaks before requesting, "Give Oberyn my love, shower kisses on my nieces, and try to make Doran smile."

"You give me an impossible task," Astoria tries to jape through her tears.

Elia smiles weakly before grasping her hand with surprising strength. "Be safe."

"And you as well."

Elia swears, "I shall see you in the spring."

"In the spring," Astoria echoes.

As Astoria's eyes sag shut, she feels Elia move closer, encircling her body with frail arms. She is nearly asleep when she hears Elia whisper so softly it is hardly audible, "I'll be lost without you."

     Astoria loves her more than life, more than anything. If Elia asks her to stay, Astoria knows she will. But Elia does not ask and Astoria does not offer, and so they simply fall asleep.

THE KING REFUSES TO ALLOW ELIA to leave the Keep to see Astoria off; it is to be Ser Lewyn who accompanies her to Dorne so he may lead an army of Dornishmen to march against the rebels. As servants carry away the two trunks which hold Astoria's life in King's Landing, all the Pentoshi can do is struggle not to cry.

"Don't look back," Lewyn advises her as they ride from the Red Keep, the weak sunlight gleaming off of his white armor. Without him, Astoria could've never carried out Elia's plan. He had been the one to smuggle the orphan babe in, that would take Aegon's place. It is in that moment Astoria recognises he is not Ser Lewyn of the Kingsguard in truth — he is Prince Lewyn of Dorne, and his loyalties lie only with House Martell.

     Her friend cannot be there with her to send Aegon off but she imagines her looking down on them from the highest tower of the Maidenvault.

Clutching little Aegon beneath her dress, hidden from preying eyes, she steps upon the ship that will take them far, far away from here. R'hllor is calling me, she tells herself with determination. I will do what I must.

     For the first time in days, Astoria allows her thoughts to drift to Arthur. Arthur, who is lost to war. Arthur, who must do his duty. Arthur, whom she loves.

I will love you if I never see you again and I will love you if I see you in the morrow. Perhaps, somewhere, someday, at a less terrible time, we see each other again and we can give us another chance, Astoria thinks. But not now. First you have to live. I pray for you to live.

She hardens her heart and does not look back.