playιng: [ptolomaea] - [ethel cain]

2:58─────ㅇ────────── 6:23

┌──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┐

mild dv content ahead!

└──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┘

June 281 AC, KING'S LANDING

It will soon mark one year since the arrival of the Dragonstone Prince and Princesses. In this time, four of Elia's ladies had married into good noble houses with her blessing. Two were replaced by a daughter and a niece of one of her eldest ladies. So far, things have proven to be fruitful and satisfactory.

Elia herself began to adopt the fashion of the Crownlands, mixing the soft silks and head scarves of Dorne with silhouettes seen on ladies here. However, she would never truly abandon her house colors or motifs. After all, she was a daughter of Dorne, and she was more than proud of displaying her hertiage upon herself.

Her dornish ladies still wore their usual skirts and their family colors. The dornish were a proud people and rarely deviated from their culture, something Elia took solace in.

Her little Rhaenys began to walk the month prior, although her footing was still insecure, and she required assistance.

Rhaenys wore her father's colors, "she has a good Targaryen name, she must dress like one," Rhaegar had said, much to Elias dismay.

Rhaenys was not a good name.

Rhaenys was the name of one of her ancestors enemy. Then, it was the name of a warrior Princess who was charred by dragonfire. It was an unlucky name, if anything. The next shall have a name of her own chosing. Oberyn and Doran had already honored their parents by naming a child in their honor.

Her next shall have her father's name. He's yet to have a grandchild named after him. Yes, Ysidor. That was a good name.

She allowed herself to think about her father. How terrible it must be to have lost his beloved. They were always so close, more than partners. Elia was convinced they shared a soul, each keeping half of this soul, which came alight with their union.

The story of Loreza and Ysidor is one she kept close to her heart.

Theirs, like Doran's, too was a marriage of love, the son of an Orphan of the Greenblood, and the eldest daughter of the Prince of Dorne.

They'd met in Planky Town while Loreza's aunt, Nyrene, scouted a midwife for her older brother's wife. She was meant to birth her third child within a handful of moons, and the midwife from before had passed of old age.

He was singing in the middle of a crowd, repairing a torn net, a group of maidens surrounding him. At five and four, Loreza did not recall if she had ever seen a more beautiful boy before.

His build was strong, yet his face was delicate. His hair, a clay brown, was braided into a thick rope that hung past his shoulders, and despite the braid, loose strands made their way into his face.

He made no effort to brush his hair away, though, too concentrated in his work and his song.

The women around him spoke Rhoynish, flirting perhaps, Loreza thought, compliments.

The language was unknown to her, but she could distinguish it, the deep rumble of syllables and the lilt of the ends of sentences.

He was the son of the midwife who delivered her uncle Lewyn. Nyrene had offered formal employment for the woman, even offering to have a place of employment for the rest of her family.

But there were no more people. It was only Ysidor and his mother, Emelia. His father had taken his three older brothers with him back to Essos, back to the mother Rhoyne. He had not known if they had even survived the travel back to the motherland.

Affections quickly grew between the young Princess and Ysidro. However, despite Loreza's pleading to both her father and Ysidor, neither man would allow a union.

The Prince for obvious reasons, a Princess meant to inherit Sunspear could not marry a commoner.

Ysidor's reasons were similar, Loreza deserved a man with a good name.

He left her for five years, promising her to rise to the status of someone worthy of her position. He became a knight, then a scholar, and then a magister with a wealth to match his many travels. Ysidor of the Greenblood left Dorne a boy and returned a man and now called himself Ysidor of the Rhoyne.

The Prince allowed Ysidor to court Loreza and would allow her to decide if he was worthy of becoming her husband.

"Jiah," Elia called to Rhaenys. She was not fluent in Rhoynish, though she learned what she could from her father.

Jiah, daughter, his father called her. Never daughter in the common tongue, only in his mother tongue.

Rhaenys just learned to answer that. Perhaps she believed that to be her name for how frequently Elia used it. "Mama," Rhaenys whipped her head back to Elia.

The ladies were taken by Rhaenys and her wobbling from one lady's arms to the next. They used rattles to charm her their way and would tut when Rhaenys went to the rattle instead of to their waiting arms.

"Rhae, this way," one of the newest and the youngest ladies, Lira Piper, called, shaking her wooden rattle. The girl was five and ten, and her mother, Elia's oldest Lady, Belena Piper, believed it would widen her marriage prospects if she joined Elia at court. Her own husband was a knight for the City Watch, had been since his youth, and as a third son, he would not inherit his family seat. And as most third sons do, he set out to find a life and a name for himself. The King's Shepherd they called him, for all in the city, knew to stay in line when he was on watch.

"Young Rhaenys," Ashara held her hands out for the Princess, colorful ribbons fluttering in one of her hands. The tinkle of a bell caught Rhaenys' attention, and she turned her attention that way instead. Ashara's waiting arms fell dramatically at her sides, "traitor," she scowled, eyes trailing after the young Princess.

One of the nurse maids had settled along the circle of ladies, pulling a wooden dragon toy out of her pockets. "Princess Rhaenys, look," she placed the dragon in front of her.

This earned a warm smile from Elia as Rhaenys made way for the dragon, her rattle long forgotten.

She plopped down in front of the dragon with a giggle, taking the dragon in her small hands and shoving a wing into her mouth. A shower of hands flew to pull the toy out of her mouth, and the princess whined and yelled in protest.

"They always have that bad habit," one of the ladies, Kerenza Manwoody, giggled.

While the ladies busied themselves with Rhaenys, Ysa Qorgyle, a dornish girl of ten and seven, moved closer to Elia. "I have met with Lord Mathis Blackwood, Princess," a tiny smile made its way onto her lips, and her cheeks reddened.

"You are quite taken with Lord Blackwood, yes?" Elia asked, her smile reaching her eyes.

"I am. It is a good match, don't you think?" Asked the shy girl.

"Blackwoods are barbarians. A High Lady such as yourself should not associate with their likes," spat Lady Tansy Bracken, a riverland Lady of seven and ten.

She, along with Kerenza Manwoody and Lady Ysa, had formed a friendship given their similar ages.

Kerenza reached for Lady Tansy's hand and pulled it onto her lap, offering comfort to the agitated girl and to help her regain composure. "Lady Ysa must marry sooner or later, ideally not to a dornishman. That is what we were brought here for, to strengthen the alliance between Dorne and the rest of the kingdoms, " Kerenza spoke softly to the girl.

"It cannot be to him, or any of his kin," a few gasps followed her opposition. She turned to Princess Elia, hoping she'd understand.

"Princess, those indecent people have been in conflict with my House for centuries. They mock the faith and do not respect the laws of men."

Elia's eyes flicked to Ysa, then to Tansy, "It is my greatest wish for all of you to marry a good man who will hold you in great esteem. Someone who reciprocates your affection. It is not my desire to meddle with affections already taking root."

"But, Princess -" Before Tansy could continue, another lady silenced her.

"Consider it this way. When Ysa becomes a Blackwood, perhaps that will soften your heart to them," Lady Belena offered.

Tansy looked to Ysa with misty eyes. "I would not hate you, but I do not know if my heart could soften to them. Their trespasses are numerous, a pile of corpses and unnecessarily spilled blood."

Ysa smiled, "you would not hate my Blackwood children, you cannot. I'll marry my children to yours, and the bad blood will end with us."

Tansy laughed, and nodding said, "I suppose that would be a good idea."

The ladies began making their way to their own sleeping chambers after supper.

Lady Belena helped Elia carry a sleepy Rhaenys since her own chamber was on the way there.

"I did not think the Braken and Blackwood feud to still be such a persistent thing." Elia confessed to Lady Belena.

Lady Belena's eyebrows shot up, "they've been at each other's throats for generations. Other houses have refused to intervene. It's such a complicated situation to find oneself in. I can not remember a time when the Riverlands weren't plagued by it."

Lady Belena stopped at the door of her chambers, "I will see you in the morrow, Princess," she handed Rhaenys over.

They departed, and Elia continued to her apartments, her White Cloak following closely behind. "Uncle," she called over her shoulder.

The man strode to her side and quickly closed the gap between them, "Would you mind," she signaled for him to hold Rhaenys. He took the babe who made no fuss and leaned into the cool armor.

He smiled, "she is growing fast. She'll be a tall girl, this one."

"Yes. I did not think children grew this quickly. Have you heard from Dorne recently?"

His eyes flashed to her, "it seems my goodbrother is maladjusted to being alone. Doran says he does not know how to be. He says he's lost himself. I apologize for bearing such helpless news."

"It is fine," she shook her head, her curls getting into her fae, a good excuse to wipe her teary eyes. "Doran won't speak much of father to me. And you? How have you been? It's been so long since you were assigned to me. It's usually Arthur or Ser Darry, and they are quite reserved towards me."

"Even Arthur?" Lewyn asked, stopping in his place.

Elia shurgged, "he's always been this way. I don't mind it, but it's nice having conversations with other people outside of my ladies. Ser Whent is good at conversation, though."

They arrived in Elia's chambers. "If you ever need anything, I will always be here. Even if it is just to haul your little dragon or to listen to you. I am loyal to you before the Crown. You are my blood." He offered her a small crooked smile.

Her eyes softened, and her heart swelled, but she would wait until she was in the privacy of her room to cry, "Thank you, uncle."

He handed Rhaenys back to her and took his guarding position at her door.

Her chambers always smelled wonderful. Not quite like Dorne, but the continuous burning of incense and spritzing of perfumes reminded her of her home.

It was always a relief to arrive here. The persistent stench of rot from the city could not enter here.

She set Rhaenys down in her cradle and began to undress.

She removed her jewelry first, her bangles and rings and anklets, most of which were gifts from her dear mother. She doesn't remember it, but Doran once disclosed to her that Loreza would tie bells on Elia's ankles because she had the habit of hiding.

The soft tinkle of the jewelry reminded her of that story. "Arianne seems to be as mischievous as you once were. She gives Mellario a hard time," he said, smiling.

She placed her rings into a jewelry box, next to the pitcher of water she kept for midnight drinks, and memories with her mother returned. She thought she could continue with just the ghost of her mother, but it was proving to be a difficult task.

"Oh, mother," the Princess sobbed, sinking into the carpets. She brought her knees up to her chest and cried into her hands.

She cried some more, and when she'd released what weighed in her heart, she wiped her face and took in a deep breath, reaching for the pitcher only to find it light. It was empty.

She grabbed the pitcher and composed herself. She would need fresh water.

A different Kingsguard, Ser Whent, had replaced Lewyn in the time she had been inside.

He bowed, "Princess, it is late. Where are you going to?"

She closed the door carefully to not disturb Rhaenys' sleep. "I am thirsty, I'm going to fetch some water in the kitchens," as he moved to follow her, she added. "Alone. I will be fine, please look after Rhaenys. She is asleep." He nodded and smiled softly.

She moved quickly through halls, some well lit, others well guarded.

She managed to sneak away from where she knew the guards were heavily concentrated by using one of the libraries as a shortcut.

It was dimly lit but well kept. Not a single book out of place and not a single candle had its wax spilling onto a table.

She was halfway across when she came upon a sobbing Queen Rhaella in a corner on a chair.

The sight was startling at first, a white ghost in the darkness. Rhaella looked across the room at Elia.

She was sobbing into her fist and quickly composed herself, wiping her face harshly, a faltering smile flickering on and off on her features.

With a quivering lip, the Targaryen Queen asked, "Why are you up so late, dear?"

Elia brought the pitcher up so the Queen could see it, "I ran out of drinking water. I was only going to fetch some more," she squinted her eyes, trying to see Rhaella more clearly.

"Are you well, your Grace?" She asked, unknowingly stepping closer to the Queen.

Rhaella looked at her with cautious eyes, afraid and embarrassed to be seen in her condition. "Are you hurt?" Elia asked, seeing the purplish bloom of a bruise above the Queen's left brow. Her bottom lip was split, and there was blood on her kercheif and some on her dress.

"Your Grace-" Elia began, but Rhaella interrupted her.

"I tripped and fell," she began smiling. "It was a terrible mistake, and I am terribly clumsy. It, it happens often. I-,"

The dornish princess crouched and looked up into the Queen's face, observing her with a tense brow and tight lips. "Your Grace, if I may," she took Rhaella's kercheif and dabbed at the Queen's lip and chin. "I will bring something to patch you up. Please wait here."

Although the Queen wanted to protest, she didn't have it in herself to turn away this act of kindness.

Elia scurried out of the library with her pitcher and stopped at the quiet sobbing that met her outside of the library. A pair of puffy eyed handmaidens stood before the door along with Ser Gerold Hightower. "Is all well?" Her eyes bounced between each individual.

"The Queen, she will not let us help her," one of the handmaidens grabbed Elia's wrist, stepping closer so only she could hear her, "the King takes his frustrations out on her and we can do nothing. It must stop, Princess. We can do nothing," she pulled away.

"I will see to her injuries," Elia declared, weary of discussing things in front of the Kingsguard. "Come with me," she asked one of the women.

They made their way into the kitchens, scattered staff still there, and filled Elia's pitcher. They stumbled upon a maester, and from him, they asked for ointments and linen bandages but refused his aid.

"I do not mean to burden you, Princess Elia, but the Queen can not do it on her own," her eyes welled again.

Elia threw an arm over the woman to comfort her. "No one interferes when he beats her. Not even her son. I've seen how he simply turns away from her when she appears with fresh bruises. He says nothing when the King threatens to slit her throat, not even the damned Kingsguard," she was furious and courageous on her Lady Queen's behalf, and Elia admired that "The Crown is a heavy burden, one the Queen has endured for too long."

Elia looked at the woman, "I will see to it. I will do what is in my power. We will not forsake the Queen," she promised.

They made their way back to the Queen, but Rhaella only allowed Elia to tend to her. Her handmaidens would have to wait outside, hands wringing, but at least now they had some hope that the Queen would be alright.

Elia was muttering between her teeth, and Rhaella chuckled, "You are just like Loreza. Oh, the dear wanted to fight the King when she...found out. Joanna, too, would mock Aerys in the privacy of my chambers. They each had their way of cheering me up. 'How can you be loyal to me and not the King?' I asked them. 'We are your ladies, and we are your friends,' was what sweet Joanna had said."

The Queen flinched when Elia began rubbing an ointment into her wounds. "I do not doubt their loyalty. Your kindness inspires that. Your Ladies, your handmaidens, and even lowborn women look to you with their needs. I hope to be as gracious as you one day."

Rhaella tensed, "but you will not tolerate abuse. I can not handle Aerys. He is my King, but Rhaegar is my son, and I will not stand to see him turn into his father."

Elia smiled softly, gathering her supplies, "Rhaegar is different from the King. He is not like his father."

"Good," Rhaella sighed.

At that, the doors parted and in strode the Prince, his brows bunched in concern or confusion, Elia could not tell.

"Mother, Elia," Rhaegar approached them.

Behind him, Ser Lewyn Martell and Ser Arthur Dayne bowed upon seeing the Queen and Princess.

Elia shielded the Queen, "Perhaps it is better if you leave us," she looked to the men. "I will explain later, husband," she addressed Rhaegar without looking at him.

Later, she would meet with Rhaegar in his apartments. It had been a while since she visited his place. It was usually him who came to her, often spending their time together talking. He preferred her bed, and the way her rooms smelled was what he had told her.

"The Queen's handmaidens are worried about her, I am worried too," she took a seat on one of his heavy chairs. "No one can prevent your father's abuse... your mother cannot endure any more."

After an uncomfortable moment of silence, Rhaegar asked, "What would you have me do?"

From her chair, she held his gaze, her dark eyes determined and unwavering. "You must act. You are the Crown Prince. If not you, then who?" Her words were measured, well thought out. She wanted to make him see things without having him withdraw back into his head with his somber thoughts. "Your mother is broken, and your father grows more unhinged every passing day. The realm can sense this, your father's court talk about it, and your passivity gives them no comfort."

Rhaegar stood at the end of a table, his knuckles white from his hard grasp on the edge of it. "I am not my father," he muttered. His head was lowered, shoulders tensed, and in this boyish posture, he seemed like a boy who'd just been reprimanded. "And I fear I am not the man you wish me to be, either. His voice was heavy and wavered.

Elia thought he would cry and rose from the chair, crossing the room, standing before him, but she did not touch him, respecting this space, this moment he needed. "I do not ask for the strength of a king, only the heart of a husband, a son," she told him softly. "God's willing, your son is quickening in my womb. If he is, as you say, the Prince of Aegon's prophecy, then he must inherit a peaceful reign as your ancestor intended. He can not defeat the darkness with a kingdom that does not trust him because of his predecessor."

A weight seemed to lift off his shoulders at hearing about his son, his Aegon, and he cautiously put his hand on Elia's belly. She put her own hand above his and looked up at him, "Do something before it is too late. For your realm, your mother, and for us."

A/N:

This one's a long boy and I would've usually split it, but if I did it would need to be split into 3 parts because I was originally gonna introduce the plans for the Tourney of Harrenhall here. The next chapter will be the last of this act and after that things will go by pretty quickly. I plan on adding 3 one shots after the epilogue, 1 for Rhaella/Loreza, 1 for Lyanna, and a secret third thing lol (spoiler territory so I can't reveal that). Also ptolomaea is so rhaella coded!! I'm also considering posting a revised version of this fic on ao3 and reactivating my tumblr account cuz why not lol. Oh I'm also planning a HoTD fic and will probably start posting soon. Thank you for sticking around i love yall so so so much. Oh also wattpad stays being messy and messes up my formatting and media so sorry for any formatting issues. AND OMG I TOTALLY FORGOT TO ADD THE NSFW CONTENT WARNING IN THE LAST CHAPTER 😅😭 I'm so sorry!!!

EDIT: I forgot to add this but i used the word "jiah" which "means" daughter in rhoynish, BUT the thing is there are no rhoynish words in the books that i could remember (i havent read the books in a while) or online. so i just made this up by scrambling the spanish word "hija" which means daughter. i looked it up to see if it meant anything in another language and nothing came up. so i'm sorry if it's accidentally a swear word in a different language that's not my intention at all and i'll probably not be doing that again in future chapters.