playιng: [how was your day?] - [beabadoobee]

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"There are good parts in the City, of course," Queen Rhaella explained to Elia. "I have not been outside of the Red Keep for quite some time, you know?" She watched Elia's face for a while. Oh how she reminded her of Loreza.

The news of her friend's passing came, and with Loreza, the last of her girlhood died with her. She chuckled.

"I always assumed I would be the first to go between your mother, Joanna, and I. And yet..."

Elia's eyes warmed.

"And yet I remain the last one," she quickly blinked away her tears. "Your mother meant so much to me. I looked to her as an older sister, although Loreza oft behaved as a mother to me. One day, I shall tell you more about her."

They took each other's hands, and the group of women around them smiled.

"I find the loss of a friend to be more bitter than the loss of a husband," one of the ladies joining them said.

They were joined by other ladies along with some maids. It was mostly talk about insignificant matters, but this was Queen Rhaella's duty. Aerys, despite his objections, agreed to let Rhaella hold her regular Women's Court. Here, she would listen to the woes of the noble women and the occasional lower class woman as well. It was enough for Rhaella, despite how artificial the whole ordeal was. In truth, none of the worries would come to a resolution. For what could a queen do about a lord who struck his lady wife when bruises had replaced kisses in her home? What could a queen with false power do when a woman came to her after her husband had raped her when that was the only form of intimacy Queen Rhaella knew?

But the Queen offered solace and wisdom only a woman of her condition could. And she would send the women and their perpetual troubles on their way to the Sept where they would offer prayers.

This had become routine for roughly a month after their arrival. Though her husband would go missing for hours at a time. From daylight to daybreak at times. During this time, Elia came to know more about the nobles at court and their families than her own husband. She would break fast with them more times than Rhaegar would join their marriage bed.

Weeks would soon turn to a month, then two, and Rhaegar's absence grew heavily upon Elia's shoulders.

She was no fool. She knew men took mistresses and often sired bastards. However, she did not think this reality could affect her this much. She never expected a marriage of love, but at least one of respect. Bastards in a royal family were seldom a good omen. Bastards could break kingdoms apart and end dynasties.

She shook her head and focused on her daughter. Rhaenys was growing strong.

"Much to think about Princess," it was Varys. "Are you settling well in your new residence?"

She smiled up at the man and signaled for him to sit beside her, the kingsguard several steps away from them.

"I find myself restless about this place."

"How so?" Varys asked her, his body curling in her direction to create a sense of privacy.

Elia looked for the right words in the air, the sailboats just beyond the horizon of the gardens. "I feel as though I must meet the people of King's Landing, form an association with them. But all I seem to do is share every waking hour with the same lords and ladies at court."

Varys sighed, nodding sympathetically.

"Mustn't a princess learn more about the people she means to serve one day? How can I do that if I am not even allowed to leave the Red Keep?"

"You think and worry too much, Princess. But your worries are well grounded. Any future Queen must form relations with her people."

Elia sat with his words, rocking her child to sleep in her arms. "Wh-?" She choked back her words.

"Yes?" He pryed.

"What does Rhaegar do most of the day. I hardly see him these days, isn't that silly." She laughs at herself. Too embarrassed at her boldness or the possibility of her insecurities slipping out.

"Does he not tell you? Well, it's nothing too outrageous. He's always about King's Landing... doing charity is how most would put it. He sings for money for the smallfolk and entertains them. I hear him and two others frequent Summerhall as well."

"Oh," Elia blushed. Her husband was doing things she wished to do. Good things. And here she was questioning his loyalty.

Varys placed a hand on Elia's, "he keeps to one bed only, if that was what you were concerned about. He's a faithful man."

Elia smiled deeply, thanking the man.

"Perhaps on his next visit to the city, you might wish to accompany him." He stood to leave. "And ask him about the Song of Ice in Fire. I hear he is fond of it. Perhaps taking interest in your husbands interest is one way to start."

That night, before Elia retired to her bed chamber, she questioned one of the maids who fixed her bed about the song of ice and fire. The girl did not know it but suggested asking Maester Pycelle.

The Maester, however, never left the King's side, and Elia was yet to be comfortable around the King by herself.

After ensuring Rhaenys was asleep, Elia paced around the room, mumbling to herself what she would say to Rhaegar.

She made fists into the air, folded her arms behind her back, and swatted at the air. Still unsatisfied about what to say.

"Are you well, Elia?" Rhaegar asked as he entered the door.

She spun around, horrified and beyond embarrassed at being caught. "Rhaegar!"

"Are you meaning to join the local troupe?" He chuckled.

Elia huffed, "I was gathering courage."

He looked around. Was this a jest? Had his mother set her up to it? "Wine usually does it for me," he made his way over to Rhaenys's cradle and smiled, passing a hand over his child's hair.

"Where do you go all day?" She asked him.

He sat down on their bed and began removing his day clothing, looking for where his sleeping gown might have been left.

"Just the city."

"Yes," Elia clasped her hands in front of herself. "But what do you do in the city?"

"I sing for the people, sweet Elia," he looked up at her briefly, then got back to work on undoing his shirt.

"I should like to accompany you on your next trip outside of the Keep," she nodded.

He stopped, "Is the Women's Court not to your liking? Mother takes great satisfaction out of it. It's a very queenly affair."

"Well, yes, but I would like to see more. See outside of the walls of the Keep. Perhaps meet the people."

He stood to his full height, towering by nearly a head over his wife. His face relaxed then, and he looked at her the way he did every time before they made love.

"Is this your yes," she held his hand before he could reach her waist.

"By the end of the week, you can come with me to Summerhall."

She let him kiss her and lead her to the bed.

•●•●•●•

She had known this place only by the limits of her imagination. The tragedy at Summerhall was a thing she'd come to learn about only in her books and through word of mouth. She coughed, moving through what remained of the place.

Rhaegar extended a hand to her to guide her. He should've thought better about bringing her so soon after Rhaenys, though if not now, when?

Elia had to know. She had to understand, and he trusted she would. She had to know. She must bear witness.

She was a footstep from reaching him and looked up just before she took his hand. His jaw was tense, and his violet eyes were fixed on their hands with a sadness she had not seen on him before.

Summerhall was the place that birthed a prince and killed a king. Here is where Rhaegar had been born.

He led her through half burnt pillars and collapsed roofs, and Elia could swear she could hear the flames lapping at the foundation of the castle that once was. Elia could almost smell the charring of skin the deeper they walked, and then she heard it.

The brief shouts of conflict and chaos passing all around her, and she managed to understand one. "Aegon, what have you done?" An man's angered voice boomed.

The groan of a roof about to collapse startled Elia into covering her ears to brace herself for the crash that would never come.

She squeezed her eyes shut and froze in place. What is this?

Her body began to heat up with invisible tongues of a fire sweeping over her. Elia's eyes shot open, and she grasped and pulled at her shawl to stop the fire that wasn't there from consuming her.

"Elia," Rhaegar called her name, but she did not hear. She stepped backward and bumped into the ghost of a man who yelled at someone beyond her that he "had to do it. It was the only way, Duncan."

Elia shrieked, and her breathing quickened, and before she could descend further into the memories of this place, Rhaegar embraced her. He pulled her body to his until her body melted into his, and they stood in the middle of the ruins as one entity.

"Princess Elia," one of the guards called from beyond the dead castle.

"We are alright,"Rhaegar called back.

He rubbed a hand along her back, whispering assurances into the side of her head.

"It is alright, Elia. Open your eyes."

"What is this?" Her voice was muffled by his chest, still too afraid to open her eyes in truth. "Have I gone mad, Rhaegar? What is this?"

He held her at arms length and asked, "Open your eyes, Elia, please. It can not hurt you. It has already passed."

And when she opened her eyes, she could only see the softened face of her melancholic husband. He offered her a soft smile and held his hand out once more for Elia.

They walked like this, in silence, for a while longer until they came to an archway blocked by two pillars that had collapsed and crossed each other in front of it.

"Sing, Elia,"Rhaegar asked, not even looking at her to confirm his request.

She was entirely convinced she had gone mad. First the ghosts, now he asked her to sing in the middle of rubble.

"I cannot sing," she blinked rapidly, still unsure if she had fallen asleep sometime before their arrival to Summerhall.

Rhaegar chuckled, "Nonsense, I've heard you before. Sing me the Sorrows of Mother Rhoyne. You seem fond of that one."

"It is a somber song, I am unsure now is the adequate time for such darkness." She looked around.

"Then sing me Jenny of Oldstones, do you know it."

Elia chuckled, shaking her head. This isn't real. She hummed some lyrics and rushed through the ones she had memorized. Rhaegar harmonized with her completing the missing lyrics.

As they stood now before the crossed pillars. She blinks, and there it appears. A silhouette darkened by the shadows appears, but just as quickly, it is gone. She blinks once more, and there it is again.

A tiny woman with white hair that brushes the ground, and with a cane that stood as tall as herself.

"...the fires consumed them...my poor Jenny. My poor, poor Jenny. My friend." It stopped in front of Rhaegar, and he swiped his palm over his. "Amidst salt and smoke, he will rise." She asked him, looking this way and that as if she too could see the memories of this place.

"Rhaegar!" She slid in front of her husband, and the silver prince couldn't help but find his wife's courage endearing. He smiled.

"Your palm," the woman requested.

Elia stuck out her palm and passed it over the woman's how she'd seen Rhaegar do it.

The woman closed her eyes and nodded. "The Sun's daughter who flickers in the shadows of the dragon's pit. I have no conception of you in my dreams. But I see your end. Oh! How tragic! Oh!" The woman claws and beats at her chest. "I've had my fill of sorrow already...my poor Jenny." Her breathing hitched, and she began to sob. "By the word of the Lion and by the hand of the Mad Dog...no!" She covered her face and trembled.

Elia fixed the woman with a horrified gaze, "what do you mean?"

"Witch," Rhaegar sinks to a crouch to be leveled with the woman. "Take your leave. You've already been compensated for your wisdom."

The Princess looks at her husband as he rises to his full height and meets his eyes. "You had to see to know. You once said you only believed in things you could see. I had to make you see this so that you would understand what is to come."

He disclosed to her a prophecy that has plagued his entire house since the days of Aegon the Conqueror. The darkness that takes shape beyond the west. Finally, he disclosed his intention to fulfill this prophecy.

In the remains of the devastation of Summerhall, he clutched Elia's hands and brought them to his chest, and asked her to believe and to trust in him.

Her head felt dizzy. She was still trying to process what had occurred only moments ago, and now he asked her to believe in his ancestor's prophecies. He asked her to believe in him before he even allowed something more than surface level affection to grow between them. But is trust not the beginning of love?

Elia was no fool. She knew love was impossible in a union made in arrangement. She didn't expect their affections to reach anything past a friendship.

He saw her hesitance and added, "Elia, I trust you. You must be gracious for this to come to pass. I wouldn't ask this of you if I wasn't certain..."

He let the words hang there between them.

"I will help you." She said before she could even stop herself. "You do not ask for something insignificant of me, but I am your wife, and I will honor your trust."

With that, they set out through the darkening ruins of Summerhall and into the night.

They made their way to the kingsguard and greeted each other.

She began her way up into the wheelhouse, and while she gathered her skirts, she noticed the pale heads of a familiar mushroom.

She chuckled, enchanted by the little things that poked from the ground. She stepped back and admired them closer.

She took the kerchief she kept tucked away in her bosom and plucked three. "They taste like rabbit when prepared the right way, but can be deadly if consumed undercooked." Her eyes twinkled with a memory. "My brother, he knows of poisons. Says it's easy to take down a man with just one of these."

Rhaegar took the mushrooms in his hands, "then you must teach me how to prepare this as well."

She nodded, remembering her words earlier. She promised to trust him.

•●•🌿•●•

A/N: I actually forgot I had to develop their relationship and a bit of politics and pace myself 🙃 a little D&D moment