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Rhaegar played along with the lie her sister was spinning, about how her illness wasn’t usually so bad. Saige was fairly certain Rhaegar saw through that, but she appreciated that he didn’t mention it then. If it was something he wanted to confront her about, which she supposed would be a reasonable thing to bring up in their position, it was best done in private. Not a busy market in King’s Landing.

“Right, that makes sense,” Elia agreed with Rhaegar, almost wanting to convince herself of that. She knew she couldn’t. She’d always been away she was not as healthy as the people around her. But it had never been a source of insecurity for her. Well, she’d had her moments. But her family reassured her, her mother especially. Their mother certainly felt guilt that Elia was how she was.

But it wasn’t until she realized she had a purpose to fulfill, someone to impress, that she dwelled on all she couldn’t do.

“And I don’t think drinking so much wine helped, either. She doesn’t drink much,” Saige spoke, mainly so Elia could feel the focus wasn’t on her physical ailment any longer. “I’ll take the blame for that one, I should’ve known better to insist on it. To either of you. Just because I want to drink an entire seas worth of wine doesn’t mean everyone else does.”

Elia cracked a smile, shaking her head. “No, I’m capable of making my own decisions.” She was the older sister. “Thank you, all of you, for being understanding.” It was genuine. Even if she was almost certain Rhaegar was just being nice, that still meant much to her. And she felt bad. She knew it wasn’t desirable of a potential wife. She breathed in slowly, even just standing still helped.

Saige gently squeezed her sister in a one armed hug. “I’m going to go find something for you to drink, yeah?” Saige decided as she looked around, surely someone sold tea around here, or if nothing else she could get some wine.

Saige was used to Elia’s pace. Even after spending years away, she could go home to Dorne and slip back into her routine with Elia. Simply because they all grew up together. It was something to get used to, and not all could become accustomed to it. Saige wondered where Rhaegar would land.

-

Cersei would be lying if she said she minded talking to Aemilia. Not then, at least. Cersei still couldn’t say she liked the woman, but the previous animosity was gone for the moment. Cersei hadn’t had the chance to talk to many others who lost their mother, other than her brother.

And Aemilia made her feel less guilty, for not remembering her mother distinctly. As she hadn’t talked to many, she wasn’t sure if it was normal or not. Or if there was something wrong with her. Maybe there was something wrong with both her and Aemilia, but Cersei would still take it.

Aemilia’s words resonated with her. Having memories she holds onto, but otherwise…

The redhead suggested Cersei consult her father, ask him about her mother. Cersei immediately shook her head at that. “My father doesn’t talk about her.” She simply stated. “I’ve tried before, but his answers were always clipped, or he’d find some way to end the conversation.” He of all people would be the best source to ask about Joanna.

And then Aemilia suggested her aunt, Genna. Cersei hadn’t thought of asking her about Joanna before. She worried if she asked, Genna would tell Tywin. If she asked her uncles, they would. But Genna, she wasn’t particularly likely to run to her brother. “Yes, maybe I’ll ask her.” Cersei mused. Whenever she saw her again. Or maybe she’d write to her.

It was when Aemilia offered to hear what Cersei could remember, to keep those memories alive, that she paused for a moment. She blinked. She had to force herself to remember that Aemilia was not her friend. That she could be after something. But the softness of her voice seemed all too genuine. She wrung her hand behind her back as she considered the offer. “I...I don’t remember as much as I want to. I can’t remember her face exactly. Everyone says I look like her.” She wouldn’t know. There were paintings she could look at, although Tywin had them taken down years ago. But paintings were never truly accurate. “I can remember things she said to us, but I can’t remember it in her voice. I do remember sitting up in the evening with her while she sewed.” Those were fond memories, the peace of them all. Before she knew what the world really consisted of.

“And I remember the perfume she wore, sometimes I’ll smell something like it.” She wasn’t sure where her mother had gotten it, but Cersei would know if she ever smelled it again. “My father still has a bottle at home,” Cersei mused. She used to sneak into his chambers, for multiple reasons, but often to remember her mother. It was obvious Tywin had loved Joanna, and that is what gave her hope that she’d have a marriage like that, one day. “My mother was nice. Loving.” She remembered that distinctly, for it was an even balance with Joanna and Tywin, who was not affectionate in the least. And it was like a splash of cold water in her face when her mother passed.
 
Much was said to make Elia feel more comfortable about the situation. Rhaegar was fairly certain there was no lie to be had in Saige’s words about Elia and drinking. He’d have to make sure not to pressure her about that, either. Wine was the standard beverage, but he knew some didn’t like it, or else drank it quite watered down.

“You’re welcome,” he allowed as Elia thanked them, before Saige turned away, apparently intent to go find something for Elia to drink and gather her bearings.

Oberyn, he had no problem sending off alone.

Saige was another matter. Though it was unlikely she’d be singled out by most as a bastard, he knew she might have better luck at getting a drink quickly with his presence, or Ser Dayne’s. He considered asking the man to go after Saige, but he’d hardly abandon both Elia and Rhaegar in the middle of the marketplace.

He stepped back, “I’ll go make sure isn’t unnecessarily hassled.”

“Your Grace—” Ser Dayne started to protest, but Rhaegar held up a hand.

“I do not imagine I will ever, truly, leave your sight,” he was certain they could find something in the area. Ser Dayne still, obviously, didn’t like this, but he understood that Elia required his protection just as well. Hopefully, Oberyn would be back soon.

Rhaegar looked to Saige then, not thinking she would mind his volunteering overmuch.

~***~

Joanna’s death had impacted Tywin more than Aemilia considered, and while she felt for Cersei’s loss, she couldn’t stop the vindictive glee from rising at the realization that Tywin had indeed lost something dear to him, something he could not even talk about it, or find a way to comfort himself through. Of course, those thoughts were silenced by Cersei, and she couldn’t linger in that glee.

She could only commiserate with the sorrow and Cersei having felt, for so long, that she had no one to speak with that she was willing to open up a bit to her. It was a strange line to find herself walking, as she listened to what Cersei had to say about her mother – what she remembered of her.

She didn’t know how Joanna looked. She didn’t know how much Cersei resembled her, but she imagined it was quite a bit. Blonde hair and green eyes were Lannister traits, and she didn’t look so hard as Tywin. Not so angular.

Words were remembered, but not the voice.

Aemilia knew that pain only too well.

Roger’s voice was far more familiar, but even it seemed like it would fade, one day. If she hadn’t committed songs to memory, it just might – or perhaps she already misremembered it.

The detail about the perfume was unexpected; Tywin didn’t seem so sentimental. That Joanna was nice and loving was not; Aemilia never heard ill of her, “What things do you remember her saying?” She asked, reflecting back on that. They weren’t in Joanna’s voice, but they were tidbits of her, all the same. Tidbits of who she had been.

She might be asking too much, all at once, though, so she did offer, “My own mother…she liked the ocean. It was more than her livelihood, she actually liked it. It never lost its mystery to her.” That was true of her own mother, and the lie, though her own mother had always wanted to go visit home again. To take her to the Fair Isles, to show her the ocean. She’d seen it now, countless times, “She always said she’d teach me to swim one day,” Aemilia laughed a bit, “She never did. I still don’t know.” It seemed innocent enough to reveal, even as it created a deep ache.
 
Saige paused at the sound of Rhaegar’s voice, volunteering to go with her. It wasn’t entirely unusual, but Saige was used to venturing off alone. No one really worried about her being harassed, as she could handle herself. Not that many bothered with bastards. But she supposed Rhaegar was being polite. Besides, maybe it would be easier to acquire a drink with the Targaryen prince around.

Or it could be a good way to get a poisoned drink.

But, Aerys was the disliked one. People seemed to favor Rhaegar, from what she’d heard. She supposed his company wouldn’t be too terrible. She’d just have to take a sip of the drink first, before passing it off to Elia. That would be a quick way to find out, wouldn’t it?

“That’s not necessary, Your Grace,” she offered him a way out, in case he was just trying to be polite to his betrothed’s sister. She was sure Arthur would prefer he stay, too, even if they didn’t wander far at all. But it could also give Saige a chance to elaborate a bit on Elia’s condition. “But if you insist,” Saige gestured her hand for him to follow her, but she did spare a glance at Elia to make sure she was okay with being left for the moment.

Ser Dayne was a friend. Saige trusted him enough to leave Elia with him for a short while. But there was an anxious energy to her sister, she wouldn’t want to leave without her being alright with it. But Elia gave her a smile, small and as forced as it was, to let her know she’d be fine for the brief time they’d step away. “Be safe,” Elia insisted.

‘And don’t say anything!’ Elia hoped if she thought that hard enough, it would manifest itself into Saige’s mind.

Unfortunately for her, the exact opposite was going through Saige’s mind.

Easily pretending she didn’t catch what Elia was trying to say, she turned away. “I think I saw someone selling wine back where we were…” She’d still keep an eye out for teas of some sort, but wine was probably what they’d have to resort to. Just not much of it was a good idea.

-

Cersei was blinded by finally having someone to talk to, to relate with about the loss of a mother. So much so that she didn’t consider it as a bad idea to share so much personal information to someone she’d known for such little time. Maybe it had something to do with Aemilia being Melara’s sister, too, that she so easily shared. Or maybe Cersei just really needed to talk about such things with someone.

It wasn’t like it was anything detrimental, anyway. She wasn’t giving away war strategies or anything she shouldn’t be. Or at least, didn’t think she shouldn’t be. She was only retelling what she could remember of her mother, just as Aemilia did, too. Of course, in the moment, she didn’t think how revealing even a miniscule vulnerability could be dangerous.

Not just of hers, but her father’s. Though, at that point, Aemilia had given her no reason to think she was against Tywin Lannister in anyway.

“You don’t know how to swim?” That was the first thing Cersei commented on. ‘Melara didn’t either.’ Cersei didn’t say that, but couldn’t help the thought popping into her head. She inhaled. “My mother promised to teach me things, as well. Nothing I really wanted to learn, but now I wish she’d had the chance.” Cersei would rather sneak away and learn how to wield a sword than learn how to sew or dance. Now she regretted not spending more time with her mother. She’d rather have learned such things from her than be forced to learn them with her dreaded Septa.

But a girl as young as she’d been when her mother was alive, didn’t particularly grasp such concepts of life and death, nor time. Now she did.

“I know how to swim,” she didn’t say it to gloat. But growing up on Casterly Rock, and with a twin brother as adventurous as hers, she’d learned young. “It’s not hard to learn. The baths here wouldn’t be a terrible place to learn in, before you take on the ocean.” She suggested, in case it was something Aemilia wanted to learn.

And then to her question, of things her mother had said. “I don’t think my mother had much interest in the ocean, even though we lived next to the sea,” she mused. She didn’t recall her mother caring much of it. “She liked land much more. Trees, gardening. Well, flowers. She wasn’t much for keeping up with gardening.” Too busy with children, with Tywin, maybe. “Roses were her favorite. She used to put them in my hair,” Cersei would wander with her mother when Joanna went to cut roses, to decorate with. She’d put them in her hair, every once in a while. Jaime often would run by and yank them out of her hair.
 
Rhaegar did indeed insist, and so he ignored the out that was offered to him, following the gesture instead, and stepping forward to walk with Saige. Elia’s comment drew his attention briefly, and he put a hand over his heart, offering a half-bow to her. He would be safe, and he would keep Saige safe, as well.

He didn’t note her panic or force of will to try and keep her sister from talking, as he turned away to follow after where Saige thought she had seen wine.

Wine would be the easiest thing for them to find, “I wonder if we cannot find something else near at hand,” he mused aloud, looking over the stalls as they moved. Some hydration was better than none, but he imagined they’d all prefer something else.

He would allow Saige to exert her judgment, though, and he realized after he spoke that he had been questioning it. “My apologies, La—,” a brief sigh, “Saige, you know better than I,” he knew she was not a Lady, as well, but it still seemed so…informal, so familiar, to just refer to her by her first name.

And Sand seemed too much of an insult, even if she was likely not to take it as such. He did hope for familiarity with her, after all. She was Elia’s sister, and to be her lady while she was here, for some time, at least. “I hope you may be able to assist me some in understanding if this is such an…isolated incident,” he said, as they moved further away.

Far enough that he was certain his voice wouldn’t carry back to Elia, anyways.

~***~

Aemilia shook her head at Cersei’s repetitive question. No, she didn’t know how to swim, nor was she comfortable with the thought of learning it, any longer. The water scared her. Drowning scared her. Pyke had certainly offered to teach her, but she couldn’t manage it. Her fear overcame her sense.

Still, it was a point to relate on, and Cersei need not know about that terrible fear that was just under the surface of her lack of knowledge.

Cersei certainly opened up about promises her own mother had made to teach her things, though she did not mention which things. No doubt, she had learned some from others. Aemilia could only imagine Joanna as a proper lady who would have taught her daughter proper things – sewing, dancing, and perhaps a bit about finance. Being a Lannister, that would certainly be important.

She inclined her head a bit at Cersei mentioning she knew how to swim, noting the baths here, “Yes, I’ve seen the baths here now,” she didn’t like them. She would have a much smaller tub. She wasn’t dealing with that again and the black fear that threatened to consume her even in something so small, and so much safer, than an ocean or a river. It was likely still as strange to Pyke as it was to her that bridges and boats didn’t bother her. It was only the water itself and being in it. “I may have to consider it,” a white lie, though she doubted Cersei would ever learn of her request. Cersei wasn’t actually offering to teach her, after all.

“I think I do agree with Lady Joanna, however much I’ve been overseas. I prefer the land,” there was much beauty there, it was true. Flowers, apparently, had captivated Joanna – she likely had enough servants to do the gardening.

It was easy to see Cersei with a crown of roses on her head, though. “Gardens are just one reason. I like what we build,” the markets, the temples, the beauty of human imagination that manifested on the land. “Your mother must have loved to decorate with flowers,” if she went out to collect roses, “Was it only roses? Or only flowers?”

Perhaps Joanna had been a connoisseur of the arts. Perhaps she had made Casterly Rock beautiful. Perhaps she had even made art herself.

Aemilia was almost surprised with how easily she felt genuine curiosity for the woman, beyond how it could be useful against Tywin.
 
Saige hadn’t thought twice about Rhaegar’s questioning of her judgement, it was simply an observation and open to alternative. She couldn’t help but laugh along with his apology and the seeming struggle of what to call her. “No apologies are necessary, Your Grace,” she insisted. If anything, he’d know better, given he lived in King’s Landing. She didn’t. “I would not mind finding anything closer.”

She wasn’t surprised that their thoughts were on a similar track, him curious about the truth of Elia’s state and her ready to offer it. She knew Elia didn’t want her to, but lying or withholding such information didn’t do anyone much good, except for saving Elia from embarrassment. At the very least, Saige’s sister did not have to face Rhaegar herself to tell him. That was good, right?

She inhaled and let the breath out with a small sigh. Saige did not want to harm Elia’s image, but either way could do such a thing. “Elia has no intent of manipulating you in any way, that I want to stress,” Elia was not capable of such a thing, Saige didn’t think. There wasn’t a manipulative bone in her body, she just wanted to make a good impression, as anyone would. “It’s not what I would call an isolated incident, no.”

Saige had been distracted from looking for a source of hydration, dark eyes settling on Rhaegar to gauge his reaction. “She has her good days and bad days, but her health has always been fragile.” At best, but she didn’t add that. “You’ve been kind about it, when you have no obligation to be so,” even though being decent should be an obligation. Though, she had very little right to talk about being a decent person.

“Which I greatly appreciate, and I’m sure she does, as well.”

-

Cersei did not press further on the subject of swimming or the baths, finding no need to. Though, she did consider asking Aemilia to tell her if she ever did learn, out of pure curiosity. But she did no such thing. There was something about it that would make them seem all too familiar. But weren’t they already too familiar?

‘Yes.’ But Cersei dismissed that.

Cersei imagined her mother would have an appreciation for structures, too. Her mother liked creative things. “No, not just flowers. Not just roses. She liked anything she could make something pretty out of.” Cersei missed that. In the last few years, her home had been dull. Tywin cared little for pretty things. And her family did enough to keep up appearances, not as a hobby. Cersei supposed she wouldn’t be too concerned, either, but she missed the presence of Joanna.

“Vines, herbs, other flowers. But roses were her favorite. I remember she’d have red and gold arrangements put out,” whenever they had feasts or guests. Put more distinctly, she remembered the sight and smell of brown, droopy flowers. That ingrained itself in her head more, in the time following her death.

The servants had been too cautious to move them or replace them, she assumed, but Cersei knew her father had eventually had enough.

Cersei shook her head, snapping out of her nostalgia. “None of it matters now.” It did, that’s why she interrupted her train of thought. “You ask a lot of questions.” It was a deflection, as if she hadn’t asked any of her own questions.

Briefly, she’d forgotten what they were supposed to be doing. She was supposed to be showing her around in exchange for not being told on for skipping lessons with her Septa. And her father had been brought up, and Cersei knew that she should have been suspicious of Aemilia’s intentions earlier on.

Even if the conversation felt entirely genuine. Cersei could hear her father calling her a fool for such a thing, anyway.
 
Rhaegar’s own gaze looked over the wares of various merchants as they moved together, looking for something for Elia, as Saige elaborated on her condition. The stress that Elia was not intending to manipulate him was noted. In truth, he hadn’t even considered it. Elia seemed genuine enough, but perhaps more embarrassed than she ought to be, about her condition.

He did not blame her.

He would not want to appear as feeble or fragile to anyone. Once he could have been, if he had insisted on learning only from books. That was a choice he made, though.

Elia did not make this choice.

That it wasn’t an isolated incident also did not surprise him, though he sighed a bit at it, noting that Saige paused to look at him. He shifted his gaze away from the wares, to her. He wasn’t upset, but he supposed he was a bit disappointed in the duplicity. He understood it – but it didn’t change his disappointment.

No obligation? That struck him as odd. If anything, he imagined his position made him be kind to others. It was his obligation and his duty to be there for his people, and particularly for his future wife. “I do not intend to cause her any harm or to make her upset,” he said, “I never will intend her harm; this was no choice she made for herself, and this is nothing she can help. I only seek to understand it better so I may be of more use to her in the future.”

She was to be of use to him in many ways, it was natural to want to be of help to her. “Can you tell me more of how I can help her? What is done for her in Dorne, or what are the signs of it worsening beyond the norm?” Perhaps they were seeing some of those now, or perhaps those were just standard exertion.

As he said it, he realized they’d find nothing but wine here, and he gestured to a symbol he recognized, “There is plum wine there – it’s particularly sweet.”

~***~

Not just flowers.

Joanna had beautified the world around her, it seemed. Red and gold was expected, both Joanna and Tywin were Lannisters, after all. Both as proud as being lions suggested, but there was something softer, something regal, to the image that Cersei painted of Joanna. It was an image that she liked, a woman she might have liked, but of course, she would never know that.

And it could all be incorrect, a daughter’s perspective of a mother.

Aemilia was aware her own memories could be a bit off. Her memories of both parents were more beautiful than either of them truly were, a hard truth, but a truth nonetheless.

Cersei came out of her reverie, though. “I do,” she admitted.

‘Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.’ She could make no cat references. Cersei did not yet know she was conversing with another lion. It would fall flat, or worse, earn suspicion. Cersei was clever.

“It has always been a habit of mine. I apologize if I have upset you with my queries. You may ask your own, of course.” She had offered information already, some freely, some with questions. She would not hesitate to make Cersei feel the field between them was more even, to allow her opportunity to question, even if it may be the worst idea yet.
 
Saige struggled to figure Rhaegar out, if he was being genuine or not. Or perhaps she struggled more with wrapping her head around the fact that someone like Rhaegar wasn’t cruel. Especially when he had the means to be. With a father like his, being Prince. There was nothing to be done if he decided to cause harm.

Yet, he expressed no desire to.

If there was ever a place, it would be when he was alone with Elia’s bastard half-sister, someone with little influence. Perhaps he knew better. ‘Or is just genuine.’

“Plum wine will do fine. Elia favors sweet things, anyway,” she consented, letting her path alter to head towards the stand. There was a gathering around it, but nothing that would become obnoxious. Well, they’d probably just let them through once they caught a glimpse of his silver hair. “Elia’s condition can be, at times, unpredictable.”

Elia would be better at explaining her own illness, what set her off, but that was for another time. “Some things like diet and activity can play major factors. It’s watched fairly well in Dorne. But sometimes uncontrolled things can set it off, things we can’t see coming.” Saige was sure there’d be more of such things. Elia was accustomed to Dorne, with very little she hadn’t been exposed to. There was all sorts of new things floating around King’s Landing.

“She has good days, where you can’t even tell anything’s wrong. And bad days, when she can’t leave her bed.” There was no sugar coating it. “Yesterday was a good day, today is somewhat a bad day. Normally, she’s somewhere in the middle.” She offered.

-

Maybe Cersei’s memories of Joanna were all glorified. A child’s image of their mother, the memories so distant at this point that Cersei wouldn’t be surprised if they were simply supplemented by perhaps what she wanted, rather than what was real. And maybe she didn’t care. She would live with the exaggerated memories of her mother. It was better than nothing, wasn’t it?

Aemilia apologized for her questioning, but Cersei shook her head. “No, you didn’t upset me,” Cersei only felt she’d made a fool of herself, reminiscing on such silly things. And sharing them with a practical stranger nonetheless.

Cersei was curious, though, about Aemilia. She knew her through Melara, but that was it.

So, she took her invitation to ask questions, even if she had asked some already. “Your mother, you say she liked the ocean. Where was she from?” Cersei asked, innocently enough. She knew Aemilia was born Hill, before. But that wasn’t entirely indicative of where her mother was from.

Aemilia was entirely a mystery to Cersei, despite having been friends with Melara. Aemilia was a mystery to a great many people, based on the way some spoke about her, spurred by her dance with Tywin the previous night.

“How did she die?” Cersei asked as the thought popped into her mind, the filter between her mind and her mouth continuing to fail her. Not that she had much of a filter in the first place. She had did not mean to be cruel in any way. just a curiosity she sought to be answered.

Curiosity killed the cat, though, didn’t it?
 
Saige spoke as they moved through the crowd, and Rhaegar listened. As Saige suspected, people parted at the sight of him. ‘So this is a bad day….’ He considered that she had been able to get out of bed, and wondered if they ought to try and talk her into returning to it. Wondered if the litter and a bit of drink would be enough.

He did not have a moment to ask, immediately, as they came to the stall and the merchant looked surprised to have the Crown Prince in front of him. “Your grace!” He was at least exuberant in his surprise, delight starting to seep in at the realization of the potential publicity. “However may I assist?”

“I need a bottle of plum wine, please,” Rhaegar indicated a bottle not far from the merchant’s hand, and he was quick to grab it, and offer it. Rhaegar gestured for Saige to take it, as he reached for his own coin purse.

The merchant eyed Saige with some suspicion, however brief, but he would allow Saige to take the wine all the same.

His look hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Rhaegar took out a few silver stags, “Will this suffice?” He had a feeling he was being overly generous.

The man shook his head, though. It was a reaction he was familiar with, “No, this is on me. If you need more, just let me know, I am sure we can reach an arrangement.” Food suppliers more commonly did this than other merchants. They hoped to be able to supply King’s Landing and make large sales and deals.

So, Rhaegar tucked the coins away, “Thank you – if Princess Elia finds it to her liking, I will certainly be in contact. Your name?”

“Yoven, your grace.” He had no surname, of course, “I’m fairly certain I’m the only Yoven selling plum wine.”

~***~

‘She was from the Fair Isles.’ That much, Aemilia knew as a fact. It wasn’t the truth that she could share with Cersei, of course.

Before an any answer to that question escaped, however, Cersei asked of her death. Aemilia’s steps faltered a moment, her mind drawing the connection of the danger in it even before it crossed into consciousness. She quickly paused to straighten her dress, chuckling at her own misstep, and taking a moment to regain her composure.

She told everyone – she drowned. True, of course.

Only she didn’t tell most that she didn’t know how to swim, or even that she was afraid of it, and she didn’t like the thought of sharing the detail of the death with Cersei. Perhaps it would explain why she didn’t know how to swim, but that would make it an obvious vulnerability.

“She was from Lannisport. A fisher-woman,” Aemilia knew that lie well, and that was easy to say, “she drowned. She ended up tangled in the net and was drowned before she could be pulled up.” A horrible fate, of course. One that Aemilia suspected was normal enough in Lannisport that no one would really care to look into it.

‘And then Melara drowns….’ Melara, of course, wasn’t related to the false Cassandra, but it was still an unnerving series of events in her own life. Her own actual family. Her false mother. Her not-sister.

She was fairly certain she was destined to die by water, but she hoped not for many more years. “I like to hope she fell unconscious quickly or went into shock. I’ll never really know,” a small shake of her head, “I was lucky to be taken in by my father after it.”
 
Saige wasn’t unfamiliar with being eyed suspiciously. It didn’t happen in Dorne, of course, but in her travels. Whether it be because she was a bastard or simply was suspicious. And here, she expected it, so she took little offense to Yoven’s look. At least he wasn’t difficult about it.

And if it weren’t for her holding the wine, she would’ve slapped the silver out of Rhaegar’s hand. Well, not really. She was fairly certain she could get executed for that. Or at the very least have her hands cut off. She wondered if he didn’t care or genuinely didn’t know how much something would be worth. He was a prince, he didn’t need to have any concern for such things. Or maybe he was too nice.

She said nothing about it, either way. “I’ll be sure to tell my sister how kind you were, Yoven.” Saige offered it as a suggestion to perhaps not look at someone in such a way. She could just as easily tell Elia he’d been bothersome, but he hadn’t at all been rude enough for Saige to go through such effort.

”Thank you, um…,” Yoven trailed, a bit embarrassed. Should he have known her name? Or what to address her as?

“No, thank you,” was all Saige said, not offering her name or any title, she didn’t have one no matter how many times Rhaegar called her ‘Lady’.

She turned around to head back to where they came from. “And thank you, Your Grace. I know this isn’t...ideal. Elia could tell you more of what to expect from her. She just needs a bit of encouragement to open up,” a push Saige hoped she provided with talking to Rhaegar. “Don’t tell her I said anything, though. She’ll get upset with me,” Saige was only kidding, of course. Elia didn’t have much of a wrath she needed to worry about.

-

Cersei’s gaze snapped to Aemilia following her misstep, eyeing the woman, but not with any type of suspicion. Curiosity, maybe. She watched the woman collect herself before she answered any of Cersei’s questions. Aemilia chuckled, maybe an attempt to brush off any awkwardness.

Aemilia’s family seemed to have bad luck with water. Maybe not as bad of luck as some, but...

The Lannister could only blink at the tale. No wonder Aemilia hadn’t learned how to swim, with the track record of drowning in her family. Her mother, Melara. Cersei wouldn’t categorize it as not being normal. Living by the sea, plenty of people of all ages drowned. But multiple in one family...unless one was a Reyne, it was a lot. Maybe a curse.

Maybe all the more reason to learn how to swim, but Cersei wouldn’t suggest that. Not then.

“Well. I...didn’t mean to offend you with my questions.” Cersei offered, looking down at her hands as her fingers fiddled with each other. She couldn’t offer Aemilia any consoling words for her, couldn’t tell her her mother’s death was painless, because she didn’t know either. She knew her own mother did not have a painless death, but she didn’t think that was something to bond over, wasn’t something that would lessen any pain.

“It was very nice of your father to do such a thing,” Cersei commented. Bastards were always a toss up as to whether or not they’d be accepted. She supposed she could expect as much from Lord Hetherspoon. Cersei didn’t ever think she could allow a bastard into her home, if she was ever put into such a position. She couldn’t be like Aemilia’s father, or the Martell’s mother. She hoped she was never put in that scenario, that her future husband would value her.

“I think we’ve asked each other enough questions today, don’t you?” In itself an inquiry. An attempt to cover up whatever she may have opened with her initial questions. She figured they’d both shared enough. Maybe too much. Definitely.
 
Saige didn’t offer her name, something Rhaegar noticed, when the man stumbled over his words a bit after she mentioned speaking to her sister. Yoven started to think she was someone important, reconsidering his initial assumption. It was frustrating that such a thing was what it took, but Rhaegar supposed that was normal.

He did not get to see it firsthand.

He was, after all, royalty – and easily recognizable. His traits weren’t common, even if some others possessed them.

Rhaegar gave an inclination of his head to Yoven and followed after Saige, not filling Yoven in any further than that, but walking alongside Saige as she elaborated a bit. He did want to hear more of how Elia dealt with things, herself, and he nodded. He would accept the mission to learn more, imagining he would have to wait until they had moments alone to do so. He would not wish to embarrass her out in the open market of King’s Landing, after all.

“I do not suppose you have advice for helping to make her feel that she can open up to me?” He questioned, and then frowned. That sounded wrong, “I do not mean to misuse her trust in me, I am asking to get to know her better and help us both with communication,” and Saige clearly knew that she could open up and talk about things.

Saige had a lifetime with her, of course.

Rhaegar did not. And he would not have a lifetime before they were married, and he was, in some respects, entrusted with her life.

~***~

Aemilia was quick to smile and shake her head as Cersei offered her apology, “I appreciate your sentiment,” there was no need to apologize, perhaps, but that she did – she’d respect the sentiment, that Cersei hadn’t meant to offend or to hurt. She hadn’t offended, of course, but thinking about death was never pleasant.

Cersei hardly knew the half of how nice it was for Lord Hetherspoon to take her in. She’d never know, with any luck. Never know exactly how much he risked, all for the sake of a child who showed up at his doorstep.

She allowed a small nod at Cersei’s statement, “I am glad to know you better, but I think you may be right. We should save some mystery for our next encounter, lest we become boring too soon,” her grin was touched with mischief, “I should walk you back to where you need to be, though.”

She wouldn’t suggest the Sept.

She wouldn’t encourage further roaming of the area. That would lead to them lingering with each other longer, and talking more of each other, which was not the goal now. “Where is it you need to be, now?” She wouldn’t question it – simply let Cersei state it, and take her there.
 
His question didn’t sound wrong to her. She understood where it could, but she didn’t get that sort of impression from him. No, his intent seemed genuine enough to her. That he wanted to know how to approach Elia, know her enough to make this whole thing work. “I understand,” she offered a smile to assure him.

Of course, she could be wrong about him. It wouldn’t be the first time she misjudged, or believed in a lie.

But she knew assuming Rhaegar had ill intentions, holding him an arm’s length away would not help anyone as they were. “Elia, she trusts easily as it is.” She was kind and always tried to see the good in people. Even if they didn’t deserve it. She was easy to take advantage of. Which was why she had overprotective siblings. “Too easily, if you ask me,” a subtle reminder that she was protective of Elia, even if she gave suggestions willingly.

“She just needs to know you better, personally. As Rhaegar, not as the prince, or as someone that she needs to impress.” That’s what Elia was so set on, impressing him. “Just get to know her a bit. Tell her things you like, an embarrassing story,” something to make him seem more...human. Something true or not, just something. But of course Saige didn’t say that. She wouldn’t encourage Rhaegar to lie, no matter how little it was.

“And, when you do approach the subject, it’s important to let her know, feel, that she’s not on trial,” she wasn’t being tested, wasn’t at risk of being sent back to Dorne, embarrassed. It wasn’t anything too hard for Rhaegar to comply with, in theory. “It’ll be difficult to not acknowledge it, at this point. She knows that.” Elia just needed to feel comfortable with him. And that required her seeing him off that pedestal she sat him on.

-

Cersei was glad when Aemilia seamlessly accepted her apology and moved on with no further word on it or the subject of death. It was a difficult subject, and a strange one to get into with, well, a stranger. ”Agreed, mystery preferred.” People talked to her too much, Cersei found. She became bored quickly with most, but yet, not with Aemilia. There was still an almost obnoxious sense of intrigue that the woman held, to Cersei.

The blonde blinked when Aemilia brought up taking her to where she needed to be.

Where she needed to be was the Sept, with her Septa. That wasn’t going to happen.

“I should go back to the Sept...but perhaps enough time has passed that I can return to my father,” she wasn’t sure how much time had passed between when they’d started talking and that very moment. Perhaps a believable enough time for her father to think she’d sufficiently annoyed or infuriated the Septa enough to let her go early. It had happened many times before.

Most likely he was back in his tower. Unless Aerys requested his presence, or he was needed elsewhere, her father made most come to him in the tower with far too many steps. Yet, they never seemed to phase him. Accustomed, she supposed. “But, that’s out of the way for you, isn’t it?” Aemilia was supposed to be with the queen, wherever she may be then.

And that made Cersei think, “Shouldn’t I be walking you to your destination? You’re the unfamiliar one, not me.” Wasn’t that the original point of their time together? Cersei would show her around in exchange for her not exposing the fact that she was skipping lessons to her father.

An interesting conversation they’d had, indeed, when she looked back on what they started with.
 
Rhaegar relaxed some as Saige didn’t seem to doubt his intentions as they made their way back to Elia and Arthur. She offered what insight she could, what suggestions she had, and he listened to them. It was apparent that Oberyn and Saige loved Elia dearly, and protected her, just as well. The ‘too easily’ said enough for Rhaegar to know that he’d be watched, just in case.

But he didn’t find it a flaw, when he was surrounded by paranoia.

‘I cannot exactly separate myself from being a prince.’

Of course, that was not his entirety…and yet, it was. It was a focus of his, and he had to be aware of how he presented, constantly. Perhaps not behind the walls of the Red Keep, although he was aware that they had eyes and ears all around.

Still, he could think of a couple of moments, a couple of embarrassing scenarios. He had not come about combat easily, given his bookish history. He was renown for his jousting capabilities now, but he’d ended up on his butt in the dirt too many times, and had a few stories of his failures and embarrassments surrounding his attempt to use book knowledge, before he knew what he was, physically, doing.

His cheeks were touched by the flame of those memories, a bit, even without speaking them. “Thank you for the advice. I will attempt to do what I can, although I believe for the time, we should try to let her get through this day.” Perhaps he would bring it up in the evening, “At least, until we return to the Keep.”

Saige could weigh in, though they would be back within earshot of the duo left behind shortly.

~***~

Cersei considered where she was supposed to be, before realizing what her original task had been. A smile broke across Aemilia’s face, before she couldn’t help but to laugh at the deductive skills of Cersei, “Yes, well, you do not seem to be much of a guide,” she noted, a light tease that she expected Cersei would take full offense to. “At least I do not plan to hold it against you and tell your Lord Father about things, all the same.”

Even if the debt hadn’t been paid, and Aemilia hadn’t learned anything else about the Red Keep than she knew before. “I’m certain I can ask a guard to show me about later,” Ser Pyke ought to know quite a bit by now. At least, she hoped so. And she did not have anywhere yet to be. She would make sure to check in and see if the Queen had returned to her own quarters, but if not?

She could take advantage of walking around a little on her own, and getting Ser Pyke to show her to some of the other secret passages of the Red Keep.

“I do not mind walking you back to the Tower. If it comes to it, I am sure I can provide ample excuse for your father if he catches you sneaking in or returning,” she wasn’t so sure about that, honestly she might default to Cersei showing her around and Cersei acting so nobly by agreeing to help out the Queen’s handmaiden.

At least no one could really argue that. And Tywin couldn’t say it was a terrible thing to do.
 
Saige eyed him, noting the pinkness that painted his cheeks. She didn’t know what had prompted it, whether it be her or something else. Maybe he thought of something embarrassing, as she suggested. She just knew she was amused by it, and just a touch curious.

At least, she knew if he shared with Elia it was only a matter of time until her sister spilled it with her.

They hadn’t wandered far, so it wasn’t long before they returned to the vicinity of their companions. Elia looked in their direction amidst whatever she was saying to Arthur, the intrigue already radiating off of her from a distance. “I agree,” she spoke before they would once again enter the hearing range of the other two. “Wouldn’t do well to bring it up here, I don’t think.” Not in public, in the company of others. Elia would not ease up then.

Soon, they were close enough for Elia to shift the conversation to them, but Saige beat her to it. “Plum wine was the best we could find.” Unsurprising considering wine was the common drink.

Elia shook her head gently, “That’s perfectly fine. Thank you both,” she offered them a smile, appreciative. But there was still that little bit of shame that she tried to cover up. But Saige could tell.

“Of course,” Saige dismissed. “Oberyn isn’t back yet? So much for his claims of being quick.” She bit back a comment if him probably being quick in other ways. With Arthur, it would’ve been fine. But the prince…perhaps that wasn’t appropriate.

“He’ll be along shortly, I’m sure. He did have to travel back a bit further than you two.” And he’d have to wait for whoever.

Saige couldn’t help but think it was a problem that could have been avoided if Elia had let her insist upon a carriage at first. Or have let Oberyn do it for them. Saige would have covered for her. But alas, Elia had something she wanted to prove, even if it wasn’t something she could.

-

Cersei did, in fact, take full offense to the remark. Her lips settled into a frown and her teeth clenched together to stop herself from spewing out some sort of defense. That didn’t actually stop her. “Well, being a guide isn’t my job. And we got sidetracked,” she managed to keep it at that. Even though, in her head, she was insisting she would’ve been the perfect person had their conversation not have taken a turn.

Still, Aemilia had no intention of exposing her to her father, even with the debt unpaid. Cersei could at least appreciate that. “You’ll have to let me make it up to you. One day.” It was not an offer or a question, but a statement. A demand. Because a Lannister always paid their debts, right? Something like that.

Cersei turned, then. To head back in the direction of her father’s tower. She wasn’t terribly concerned about being caught, plenty of ample excuses in the presence of Aemilia, so long as she played along. Of course, her lord father had a knack for seeing through such things, but perhaps would he too busy to bat an eye.

“When we return to the tower, I’ll have someone guide you back to the Queen, or wherever you may be needed. Perhaps not an extensive history tour, but to help you get around,” Cersei could at least offer that. Thinking it would be helpful.

She was not privy to Aemilia’s extracurricular activities, after all. Or, at least, not her real ones. Cersei still had a suspicion about what exactly her intentions with her father were.

A shortcut was taken through the courtyard they’d eaten breakfast in, along the same path her and her father had taken before they’d stumbled upon the Queen and her company. “I do appreciate your...assistance,” Cersei told her, whether she was referring to walking with her, her readiness to aid in her excuses, or in their plots, she did not specify. “I sincerely hope you do not fall into the same pattern as Queen Rhaella’s other handmaidens.” If only because Cersei was so curious about her. Dare even say enjoyed her.

Wouldn’t go as far as ‘like’, however.
 
They returned, and the plum wine was offered. As Elia took it, both of them were struck by a simple fact: in their considerations for a drink, they had not paused to consider a cup. Taking a drink from the bottle had a certain appearance to it that Rhaegar would not even wish to humor. He doubted that Princess Elia also wanted that stain on her, so early in her arrival to King’s Landing.

Not to mention, to be the only one drinking…even if the rest of them only had a small amount to make certain that Elia would have enough to wet her throat. “We forgot cups,” he said it aloud, and glanced around.

Cups were, at least, a bit easier to locate, a grouping of wooden goblets drawing his eye near enough to where they stood. He mentally counted, counting out Ser Dayne on principal. Ser Dayne might drink with encouragement, but he shouldn’t test him too much when he was on duty. He wasn’t quite so bad as Selmy (not that Selmy was bad, persay) but he was still dutiful to a fault, at times. ‘Saige, Elia, Oberyn, myself.’ Four cups, then.

“I will be right back in a moment,” he said, before he would step away, while Elia held the bottle with a grateful smile.

“I think Saige can watch me, if you want to follow after him,” she said to Arthur, who’s eyes did trail after the Prince. He had held a certain anxious energy about him when Rhaegar went away before, even though he’d been in sight, “Or he might need help with the cups.”

Unlikely, but Arthur would cast a look to Saige to be certain that she did not feel the need to have him stand with the pair of them. If not, he would bow out and let the sisters have a moment as he went to follow after the prince in his new quest for cups to make things look a little more proper.

~***~

Aemilia Reyne would be a fool to turn down any debt from a Lannister, no matter how small. ‘I wonder if they stack?’ Not a question to ask aloud, but certainly one to consider, as Cersei insisted that a debt was owed. She would hardly question it, or dismiss it out of a sense of generosity. “Very well, if you insist,” which, Cersei was. Aemilia just wouldn’t make a point to seem eager for it. Her odds of acquiring future debts might go down.

Cersei did make an offer for a guide, back to the Queen, or wherever she was needed. Aemilia lightly shook her head, “I appreciate the offer, Cersei, but I know my way back to my quarters,” which was where she would learn if the Queen had need of her, or if she could continue to explore a little more.

She was also considering making sure that the offer wasn’t Cersei’s way of repaying her. Not yet, anyways. She could have use of it at another time, when she needed to find something. She also had a feeling that if she let the debt linger between them, she may see Cersei again sooner. Though Cersei had the potential of being useful, Aemilia would admit the young lioness wasn’t terrible company.

She had claws, certainly – but they weren’t that sharp. Not yet, anyways.

Her gentle words about hoping Aemilia wouldn’t stray into the misfortunes of the others only solidified that. “Thank you. I will…try,” if she stumbled off course, she had a feeling it’d be quite a bit bloodier than the path the other handmaidens had taken. She still hoped to see if Tywin bled gold, but she wasn’t sure how patient she might remain with Aerys’s casual abuses towards everyone, but particularly Rhaella.

Long enough, she hoped, though aware her patience was going to be tested. She should value her revenge a little more than interfering. “If you should ever need another escape and I happen to be free, you may always come and find me. I’ll retain your secret,” she offered, “I know how…difficult septas are.” Only too well.

A small secret. If Cersei chose to take her up on that.
 
Saige didn’t think she’d ever be used to this need of things to appear proper. It wasn’t a foreign concept to her, obviously, but it hardly ever applied to Saige herself. And she was a tad out of practice. “We’re fine here,” Saige released Arthur, noting the anxious energy radiating from him.

Briefly, Saige wondered, if Arthur truly did fancy himself a prince. Or maybe he was just very passionate about his duties.

“What did you tell him?” Elia asked once they were alone, to which Saige blinked.

“Nothing,” nothing that he shouldn’t be told. But Saige didn’t say that. “I told you I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Right.” There was a beat of silence following that, but it didn’t last long. There was a grumbling as people parted, revealing the litter Oberyn had fetched. “That was quick,” Elia commented. But of course it was. Much quicker than if Saige would have tried to fetch it.

“It is Oberyn. And technically the request came from a Targaryen,” and everyone knew how they were.

Speaking of Oberyn, he popped out of the litter before it even reached them, walking alongside the horses that led it. “I come back and my sisters are all on their own?” Oberyn’s tone expressed his displeasure with that. “They didn’t wander far, I hope?”

Saige vaguely gestured, “They went for cups. I said we’d be fine on our own.”

-

Cersei genuinely hoped Aemilia wouldn’t suffer the same fate as Rhaella’s previous handmaidens. The short time she’d spent with her proved her to not be entirely insufferable. And her offer was very tempting. “I’ll keep that in mind,” and she would, sincerely.

Any excuse to be free of her Septa’s presence. And there was some sort of...likeness between her and Aemilia. Somehow, she felt.

Cersei, briefly, didn’t want to subject Aemilia to the series of steps leading up to her father’s quarters. But at the same time, selfishly, Aemilia was her best bet for an excuse if she needed one more than ‘the Septa was tired of my attitude’. Perhaps she could slip by undetected if her father was busy enough, but she sincerely doubted that.

And she was right. Her father stood on top of the stairs, speaking to someone. Too many steps down to make out what they were saying, not that it mattered much. But not too far to not be noticed. Seemingly, Cersei’s father’s companion was dismissed, nodding to the women as they were passed on the stairs. “Cersei,” Tywin called to her, his voice already accusing.

However, his eyes locked onto Aemilia. Why she was accompanying his daughter, he didn’t know. He just knew he was highly suspicious of it, “Care to tell me why you’re not preoccupied with your Septa?” He inquired, his accusatory gaze flickering from Aemilia to Cersei.
 
Rhaegar and Arthur did not wander far, and they were both able to recognize the litter as it arrived, for the clatter it made and the complaints of others who had to move aside. Rhaegar glanced over and saw Oberyn pop out. He was too far to hear what was said, but he could tell there was displeasure with it.

At least wooden cups were easy to purchase, and easy to bring back to the group – he made sure to purchase one for Oberyn, just in case, before he returned to the group. “Apologies on our delay,” he spoke first, offering the first cup to Elia, before another was offered to Saige.

Arthur gave one to Oberyn, who looked the situation over with some mild curiosity. “We are going to have a drink in the middle of the market?” When Elia flushed deeper, he understood that was probably a question he should have kept to himself. “Of course, it is getting a bit hot, I’m parched,” he supposed he could bother Elia about her health later, as Rhaegar opened the bottle and began to pour a bit for everyone.

Between them all – sans Ser Dayne, who refused to drink on principal of his job right then, no matter how little impact it was likely to have on him – the bottle was nearly emptied. Rhaegar poured for himself last.

~***~

Aemilia knew she ought to become familiar with the Tower of the Hand sooner, than later. It was where Tywin Lannister was most likely to be found, after all. It was also, apparently, fairly easy to see him about work from the base of the steps. At least that day it was. Aemilia made room for the stranger to pass by, nodding her head slightly in acknowledgment of them.

Nothing more than that. She didn’t immediately recognize who it was.

Tywin noticed them.

He addressed Cersei, but Aemilia opted to answer in place of her. It might better seal her as an ally that way, after all, “Lord Tywin,” she greeted him, even if he had ignored her presence. “That would be my fault, my lord. I caught Cersei on her way to seeing the Septa and asked her to help me locate the stables, and then a few other locations of the Red Keep, given my unfamiliarity with the locale. She has been fairly accommodating. I apologize for taking her from her lessons,” an inclination of her head.

She figured that helping the Queen’s Lady would be a sufficient enough reason for Cersei to get off the hook of any trouble. Even if she might also be able to ignore a request from Aemilia, given her status as Lannister and having other duties, it was likely questionable enough about which duties should come first.
 
Sometimes--actually, very often--Oberyn said some stupid things. Saige couldn’t help the annoyed look she shot to her brother. One he’d seen many times, and not that he needed to be told that he should have kept his comment to himself. It was glossed over easily enough, and Saige seemed satisfied with it.

Elia hummed a thank you to Rhaegar as her cup was filled. She wasn’t one for wine, really, but at that moment she was more than pleased with what they’d scraped together for her. Even with Oberyn’s comments, which she knew, at least, he meant no harm by. He never did, really.

Elia didn’t want to seem too eager as she drank the wine, but it certainly did help. The liquid wasn’t chilled, but it was certainly cooler than she was at the moment. Even the temporary coolness before it warmed her cheeks was nice.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Saige offered her own gratitude in the form of a smile. “And you, Ser Dayne.” He’d assisted, she’d give him points for that. A loyal guard, he was.

Oberyn hummed, then, “I hope nothing was too far out of the way for you to retrieve,” Oberyn’s subtle test. Just to make sure they hadn’t carelessly abandoned his sisters in the middle of the market. Even if Saige, or even Elia, said they’d be fine. Surely Arthur and Rhaegar knew better than to believe them, But maybe that was just Oberyn’s protectiveness seeping through. “I do appreciate your efforts, as I’m sure my sisters do.”

He wouldn’t leave King’s Landing if he wasn’t satisfied with the way his sisters were treated. “We do,” Saige interjected, “I think we’d appreciate getting out of the sun even more.” Not something she would normally say, but she thought it would help Elia. “I’d like to see this great Sept everyone talks about.” So long as she didn’t burst into flames walking into it.

-

Tywin was fairly active throughout his days. Of course, he typically requested people come see him in his tower. Usually to prove something, or sufficiently annoy someone. But he couldn’t do everything from the top, especially when he was the only one doing anything.

Tywin eyed Aemilia, “How kind of her.” His voice remained monotonous. He didn’t give away whether he believed that or not, nor whether he was displeased. And to be fair, he wasn’t sure what conclusion he was drawing, just that he was suspicious. Not so much as to why Cersei would agree, but why Aemilia would ask Cersei of all people.

Cersei would use it as a perfect excuse to get out of her lessons, but Aemilia?

“I didn’t think it would look very good to deny Queen Rhaella’s lady of help,” Cersei defended, thinking that concept would appeal to her father. Even if she didn’t really need to.

Tywin’s hand briefly gestured, dismissive. “That’s alright,” he allowed, for now. He couldn’t very well prosecute her to any degree for being lost, especially because she was the Queen’s new handmaiden. He wasn’t that insane. “However, for future reference, there’s a myriad of much more qualified, available individuals. Should you find yourself at a loss again.”

“I don’t mind,” Cersei added, to which Tywin frowned at her. Of course she didn’t, not when it got her out of her lessons.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to show her around when you don’t have assigned tasks at hand,” Tywin looked to Aemilia then, “Perhaps it would be prudent to mention the need for a guide to the Queen.” He suggested. Whether it be her that do it, or if he found himself in the position to mention it.
 
Rhaegar shook his head to Oberyn’s question, blissfully unaware of the testing nature of the query, “No, the wine we were able to acquire from a merchant within sight, and Ser Dayne remained with your sister as I and Lady Saige,” old habits, “retrieved the wine, before returning and going to get the cups from just over there.” An easy gesture to the place with cups, and other, more elaborate, wood cuttings.

He would have never gone far, for the reasons that Oberyn worried about. “And I do agree with this matter of the sun,” he noted.

He was paler than the others, and admittedly did not burn easily, but he wanted Elia in a better state. He offered his hand to her, “Allow me to help you into the litter, Elia,” he was able to be a little less formal with her. Intentionally trying for that familiarity he couldn’t seem to force himself to do with her sister, just yet, slipping again with regards to that.

Elia did reach to take his offered hand, and allowed him to lead her back around to the litter that Oberyn had seen brought. Perhaps she didn’t need the help, this wasn’t a struggle, but she didn’t mind it terribly in the moment, aware of how the litter was going to separate her a bit from the others as they wandered.

Already, she terribly missed the opportunity to walk along with them.

~***~

Guarded. Suspicious.

This behavior did not surprise Aemilia, but she would pretend not to recognize it for what it was, and accept Tywin’s words at face-value. That Cersei was kind. She could only smile and nod to it, as Cersei added on the details, giving Aemilia rank that threatened her own position only too easily.

Something, perhaps, Tywin noticed in his own advice, as he asserted his authority in assigning tasks to Cersei, while in that same moment reminding Aemilia that less important people existed.

“I understand, Lord Tywin,” there was the temptation to drop ‘Lord’ as easily as she had dropped ‘Lady’ with Cersei, to see if he’d play, or if he’d double up on formality. Or react at all. “I do still appreciate your assistance, Cersei,” no, she would not be apologizing to Lord Tywin for what she had done, which she half-expected he wanted.

No such thing would cross her lips.

They would find a way to meet again, and evade trouble, again, “I will see to it that if I should find myself lost, I will beseech others when I can,” which would be never, “and I will speak to Her Grace,” about how she liked the young Cersei and hoped to better befriend her.

And she managed to not make her smile sly or even tinged with mischief as she asked, “Perhaps having been here so long, you could find time to show me to some of the more important locations I should know when I am not attending to Her Grace?” Unlikely, but she was enjoying pushing her luck that day. There was a thrill to it.

This was probably why Roger dared to roar a challenge to the Lannisters.
 
Oberyn would be satisfied with Rhaegar’s answer for the moment. The man seemed unaware of Oberyn’s quizzical intentions, but that didn’t matter. Oberyn didn’t get the impression they were careless with his sisters, not entirely. They’d been in sight, at least. Even if he didn’t think there should be an ‘at least’ when it came to his sisters.

Saige didn’t point out that he’d called her ‘Lady’ again, not that time. To be fair, she’d been just as formal. But she addressed him how she should, where as she was not a Lady.

She knew her sister wouldn’t struggle into the litter, but she was still pleased that Rhaegar moved to assist her. Saige tried not to hover, but she didn’t want her sister to feel left out while they walked and she sat atop the litter. They were all there for her, after all. “Thank you, Rhaegar,” Elia echoed his familiarity, pushing a smile despite her feelings of disappointment.

Still, as she settled into her seat and adjusted her dress, she knew she’d feel better by resting. “I think all I need is a few moments to rest. Too many things happening at once,” sure, that was her excuse. “I hope to rejoin in walking soon.” She commented, genuinely hopeful. Maybe she just needed to cool off and rest her body for a few moments. Then she could start walking with them again. At a slow pace, maybe, but she’d still prefer to walk.

“Let me know when you feel well enough, I’d love to take your seat,” Saige reached for her sister’s leg with her free hand, squeezing her knee gently to reassure her.

-

Aemilia was a headache. Tywin struggled to read her, which was not something he often struggled with. She was aggravating, in the way she talked. In the way she spoke to him in a manner which few would be scared to do. Too much familiarity, too little, those were all things people worried about when they spoke with Tywin. Worried they’d peeve him.

Aemilia didn’t seem to have that issue.

His jaw set for a moment, before it relaxed so he could speak. “I’m afraid I’ve little free time for such activities.” Maybe she should ask the King, instead. “If Her Grace were to request such a thing, I’d ask her to consult with me first.” He added it to cover his bases, and partly to mock. Really, he knew it was not something Rhaella would ask of him. He wondered if it was something Aemilia would try, but he didn’t think her to be that simple.

“Cersei,” the snap of her father’s tone caught her off guard, her eyes swivelling to meet his. “I suggest you busy yourself upstairs.” Only Cersei knew it wasn’t a suggestion, so much as a demand.

“Yes, father.” She complied, for now. She turned to Aemilia, “I hope I assisted you well enough today. I will see you soon, I’m sure, Lady…” Cersei paused, catching herself being nearly cordial with Aemilia, using her title as a Lady. “Lady Aemilia,” she attempted to recover, bowing her head a bit before she turned around, quick to pass her father as she headed up the stairs.

Tywin’s brow quirked upwards at the exchange, eyeing his daughter as she ascended the steps. His attention returned to Aemilia. “I trust my daughter was a good enough guide, hopefully you can find your way back to the Queen on your own. Terribly inefficient of a Queen’s lady not to know, but I suppose you are new.”
 
Thankfully, there was no difficulty in getting Elia into the litter, and Saige was able to lighten the mood easily enough by claiming to want a seat soon. Rhaegar couldn’t help but feel some warmth from it. He was not a part of this family, but the love they shared between each other was obvious enough. It was like standing next to a campfire on a chill spring morning.

Pleasant, with promises of future beauty.

“All right, let us be off to the Sept, then,” he vocalized the instructions and intent to get them all moving, taking another sip from his cup. It was a touch strange to be wandering around with a drink…and a bottle…but he wouldn’t dwell on that. He certainly wouldn’t insist on setting the bottle in the litter.

They made their way through a little more of the market, before finding a street to turn onto, and start on the way towards the Sept of Baelor, ever in sight of the Red Keep.

“I hope not to offend with my inquiry,” Rhaegar spoke, “but I have come to understand that some in Dorne follow a faith involving the Rhoyne.”

“Oh – we don’t,” Elia was quick to say from within the litter – defensive, even. Perhaps more worried of being dubbed a heathen than anything. “We follow the Seven.” Maybe not well, but the Martells did proclaim that faith openly, anyways.

“I was not accusing,” Rhaegar said, “I was curious of it, if it was one you were familiar with. There is scarce reading here on it – I have found more on the Old Gods of the North,” and significantly more on the Lord of Light, though that was due to his father’s fascination with the religion more than anything.

~***~

Aemilia was pleased both with Tywin’s annoyance, and Cersei’s apparent alliance – if it could be called that. What had transpired between them over the course of the day indicated some small victory had been won by Aemilia, noted mostly in the way Cersei slipped and called her ‘Lady’.

Aemilia wouldn’t call attention to it, only smile to send her along her way to leave the area quickly. She wouldn’t assume that Cersei was gone, though. No doubt, she’d be eavesdropping from somewhere close.

He tried to insult her.

Were Aemilia not already in quite a good mood, it may have worked, but as it was, her pride was hardly touched by it. His attempt to soften it with an addition of her new status certainly didn’t help with his quip being vicious, though it may have made it back-handed. “Your daughter was a wonderful help,” that was a lie, and she’d told Cersei as much, but she was speaking with the Hand and she was intent to preserve Cersei’s reputation for the time being. To make her seem the good daughter.

“I am sure if I knew where the Queen went after her meeting with His Grace, I would be able to locate her. As it is, I think I am capable enough to at least locate a few places I suspect she may go, or at least make myself available to her by being in my quarters,” Aemilia hadn’t been told to go and wait anywhere in particular, but she assumed that she shouldn’t tarry far. “If you have a familiarity with her habits after such things, I would appreciate any insight. Otherwise, I shall leave you to your work.”

She had little reason to linger, and couldn’t make any demands of him, as he well knew.

It didn’t mean she couldn’t point out that she was hardly a mind-reader when it came to the Queen and her habits. At least, not yet.
 
Saige cocked an eyebrow at how quick Elia was to defend their claimed religion. They claimed it publicly, sure, but they hardly practiced it. Or they didn’t do it well. Some of them were better at faking it, at least. She was more surprised, though, by Rhaegar asking in the first place. She didn’t think it was something the prince would be interested in, but she didn’t mind being proved otherwise.

“I wouldn’t imagine there would be much literature here,” Elia did acknowledge. “I don’t think there’s many followers north of Dorne,” there were still a few in Dorne, though not as many as she imagined there were once upon a time. “Nymeria brought the Rhoynar to Dorne, but not many brought the religion with them...I have books,” she included. Even if he wasn’t accusing her of anything...well, better safe than sorry.

“There’s still some followers in Dorne. Along a river. And in Essos. They do have rather large turtles, I must admit. Not quite sure I believe any of them are gods, but to each their own.” Saige sipped at her wine. “It is a rather interesting faith.”

“They have a mother figure, much like the Seven. I’d be happy to look through what we brought,” Elia offered. “Or send for something, if you’re interested in learning about it.”

Saige added, “Or when our Prince takes us back to Dorne we can take him along the Greenblood. Though, we don’t have the turtles in Dorne,” he’d have to go to Essos for that. Or have them imported, if he so chose.

-

A doubtful chuckle escaped from deep in Tywin’s chest at Aemilia claiming his daughter was a wonderful help. Perhaps it was unbecoming to not suppress that sentiment, but it was truly amusing. He knew his daughter. Helpful was not in her nature. He wasn’t buying it and neither Aemilia or Cersei should be selling it. Of course, Aemilia couldn’t very well stain Cersei’s name in any way.

It wouldn’t go well for her.

“I suppose I could hardly fault you for not yet being acquainted with her Grace’s routine. I simply assumed that you’d have asked your queen as many questions as you have presumably asked my daughter and I combined. Perhaps you should prioritize focusing your inquiries on Queen Rhaella.” Tywin was half tempted to turn, leave and scold his daughter for snooping and disobeying on the way. Even went as far as turning away, ascending a single step.

But then he turned back around.

For the queen’s sake, he’d say. To himself. “Typically, after her meetings with his Grace, she doesn’t desire to wander far from her personal quarters. Or her son,” surely his words could be misconstrued. The whole affair thing in consideration, but that wasn’t the case. Tywin had been around long enough, knew the Targaryens well enough. Knew that Aerys liked to leave marks and Rhaella didn’t like showcasing them afterwards. “If I were you, I’d begin there. And perhaps confer with the queen to organize your duties around her routines.” Because everyone important had routines. Perhaps varied from day to day, interrupted by challenges or Aerys’s whims. But there was a pattern.

She’d learn it.

“And find a better guide than my daughter,” and he’d turn to leave.
 
Turtles?

Rhaegar cocked his head to hear mention of turtles as part of the faith. That was something new to his understanding of it – perhaps because the turtles weren’t in Dorne, as Saige indicated. “Hmm.” He was certainly curious to know more of it in Dorne, and in Essos, just as well. “I am interested in learning. Westeros is made up of many faiths and my own knowledge is limited,” he gave a gentle smile, “While the Rhoynar is not my own faith, I should strive to at least know what others in my country believe in.”

The Old Gods were somewhat accepted, though Rhaegar did not follow that faith, either. The Drowned God was something he knew a little about – he couldn’t say it was exactly accepted, but it was allowed.

The Red God was more accepted in King’s Landing, thanks to his father’s obsession.

He felt he knew the least about the Rhoynar and he ought to know more. Relationships with Dorne were always a little fraught. The outreach may be appreciated, and though that was a part of his consideration, he was, also, honestly curious.

“Perhaps you can show me some tomorrow?” Rhaegar suggested, thinking it might be a good way to stay in, too, after this venture, without damaging their ability to get to know each other.

Elia nodded at the thought, “Yes—I’ll go through what I’ve brought when we get back,” she hoped she had something. If not, well, she could try to work from memory.

“How large are these turtles?” Rhaegar asked.

Oberyn made a gesture, extending both arms out as far as he could, “Huge, your majesty. They may even put some dragons to shame.” That was an exaggeration, but seeing Rhaegar’s expression as they approached the sept was well worth it.

The way the stained-glass danced in the sunlight, even outside the building, did cause Elia to lean a bit out of the litter to get a better look.

~***~

Tywin’s laugh was a bit unexpected, as was his continuing to humor her with responses at all that weren’t irritated commands to leave him alone. No, he offered advice. ‘How do you stand it?’ Aemilia wanted to ask Tywin, as he stood at the top of the stairs. ‘How do you stand working for Aerys, knowing what he does….’

A thought burned in her mind and was ignored.

She wasn’t here for Rhaella’s sake, though she may very well fuck around and kill two men in King’s Landing before her stay was over – one, at least, but two would be better.

The one she wanted stood higher than her and turned away after his advice was given, “Thank you, Lord Tywin.” Necessary words, even if her thoughts lingered after them, questions lingered after them. ‘If anyone could….’

Except, she had to remind herself, if Tywin acted against Aerys, he would act against Rhaella. He would act against Rhaegar, and Viserys, and others, because that was who he was. Best that he play his role and never step out of line, best that he die second-best.

Like the Reynes.

Aemilia would leave the Tower of the Hand, and catch sight of Ser Pyke not far. She wouldn’t signal him over, but she would pass along a smile as she walked back to the Maegor’s Holdfast. ‘Tonight, then.’ She would indeed check if Her Grace was back, as Tywin suggested, and see if she might find some ways to change some routines.

Her Grace didn’t need to stay locked up all day, or abused so often.

‘Remember why you’re here.’

Who said she couldn’t have many reasons? Befriending Cersei, helping Rhaella, ending Tywin…why not all of it?

Why not everything?

At least the Reyne ambition didn’t skip any generations.

Aemilia would knock on Rhaella’s door.
 
Saige said nothing about Rhaegar and Elia seeming to find something to keep them talking. Some sort of common ground. She’d heard Rhaegar liked literature, was a bit bookish. If all that were true, he and Elia would have plenty to talk about.

Saige would have been eager to further exaggerate the existence of the worshipped turtles, but she was admittedly awed by the sight of the Sept. She’d never been to King’s Landing before, never seen the Sept. Only descriptions or paintings. And sure, she’d seen it from a distance. But up close? It was a beautiful structure.

Just about the only pretty thing in King’s Landing. Architecture wise.

The colored glass glistened under the sun, the light reflecting off of it. It was pretty, but also made it difficult for the newcomers eyes to trail up the white marble, to the bell towers atop it. Saige had yet to hear them ring. She wondered when they did. Maybe for only certain occasions…

Once they were close enough, Saige set down her cup on the litter, extending a hand to her sister to assist her out of the litter. Elia didn’t really need the help, but she took it, stepping onto the floor once again. She stared up the steps, not even attempting to count how many there were. They were daunting, to say the least.

Nonetheless, Elia asked, “Can we go in?” She imagined the inside was just as nice. Another thing that paintings and words just wouldn’t do justice. She hoped, anyway, as she anticipated this was where she and Rhaegar would marry, if all went well. She would hate to be married in someplace ugly. Not that she would say anything.

-

Rhaella had not been in her chambers long. Not long enough for her to have Viserys brought back to her presence. No, after these sort of things, she took some time for herself, if she could, before she welcomed her son back. She didn’t want him to see her in any ill state...she didn’t want him to see the violence his father inflicted. That was becoming more difficult. Oftentimes, Aerys wanted to ‘teach’ Viserys what happened when a king was upset.

It was the one thing Rhaella fought. She wasn’t a fighter, but when it came to her son…she would fight every time.

Thankfully, it worked often. But came at her own consequence, which she accepted. This time, Viserys wasn’t a matter of concern.

Aerys hadn’t hit her, not this time, so she had nothing she needed to cover up. But sometimes, she’d rather be hit. Some things Aerys did could be worse than feeling the sting of his rings against her cheek, or the claw of his nails at her skin. Either way, she’d needed a moment to gather herself, and wasn’t quite ready when Aemilia came knocking, startling her. “One moment!” She called, hurrying her process of fixing herself. Sure, maybe that was what Aemilia was supposed to help with, but...she didn’t want to explain it.

Half-heartedly she fixed her silvery hair, dabbed at the corner of her eyes, hoping they wouldn’t look too red. She straightens out the fabric of her dress, barely approving of what she saw in the mirror. But nonetheless, she wasted no more time, hurrying to the door. “Lady Aemilia! I was just about to send for you,” that was a lie. “I hope you didn’t get confused, I should’ve thought about that.” She rambled, stepping aside for her to enter the room.
 
It was only too easy to see what a daunting task Saige thought of the Sept’s steps. As a youth, he’d seen it as a challenge, and had rushed up them, to his own, inevitable, regret. He could run up them much easier now, at least, but Elia’s health was still in mind.

Oberyn even cast her a sidelong look, given her emergence from the litter. “You aren’t thinking of walking them, are you?”

Elia answered, “Of course! I’ve rested enough now,” she insisted.

Naturally, Oberyn just cast a look to Saige, to see if she’d pipe in.

Rhaegar stepped forward, “Well, at least let me have your arm, Princess,” he would at least be sturdy enough, and able enough, to catch her if she stumbled or fell. He could probably carry her, she seemed light enough, but he would let her have her dignity.

If she regretted it later, he supposed he’d have some stories to tell her of his playful youth later, when he had run up the steps and was tired, puffing and panting, for so long afterwards, and full of nothing but complaints, to the amusement of his Kingsguard, or his mother.

His father never found it terribly amusing that he was ‘so fragile’ back then. Even if Aerys had been of a better mind in those days.

Elia slid alongside him and took the offered arm, the flush of rushing blood once again moving across her face.

“It’s far prettier inside, and we can rest a bit, as well,” Rhaegar offered, moving to set his own cup within the litter then. He may want a hand free if Elia did stumble.

~***~

Rhaella’s tone was hectic, but Aemilia waited patiently all the same as she heard the woman move about within her room. Aemilia didn’t know how long she had been there, but she sensed the lie when Rhaella indicated she had been about to send for her. From the way she looked, Aemilia imagined she was one of the last things on Rhaella’s mind.

For the moment, she’d let her get away with it as she stepped in. “Do not worry about it, your grace. We are aware of it now,” she stepped into the Queen’s chamber.

In truth, she still didn’t want this to be such a normal thing that the Queen had to plan for it. A foolish hope, but a hope she carried all the same.

“Should I fix your hair? We can talk over expectations for situations of sudden summons while I work on that, if you like,” it wasn’t so much an offer to do anything elaborate, but more a gentle offer for comfort. Rhaella’s hair wasn’t quite so pristine as it had been earlier, and though Aemilia’s memories were far and few, it seemed almost a universal thing to find comfort in another working at hair.

One of those few memories she had not of her mother, but of her father. The man had been fairly obsessed with his own red mane, so of course, he’d tried with her hair, too. “Or even talk of anything else – perhaps where I can, and where I cannot take you, after such summons.”

A small gesture for her to speak of something nicer, if she preferred.

Something distracting.

Rhaella didn’t seem to get out much, and there had to be plenty of places to take her, and Viserys.
 
“I can’t wait to see it. I’ve been looking forward to it since we started traveling,” Elia beamed, her other hand moving around to rest on his arm with the other, to steady herself.

Of course Elia was planning on venturing up those damn stairs. Elia was set on pushing herself that day and well, there wasn’t much they could do to really stop it. Sure, any one of them could pick her up and drag her back to the Keep. But she was a grown woman, and could make her own decisions. Elia knew her condition. All they could really do was be there to make sure she didn’t get hurt.

And so Saige only shrugged when Oberyn gave her a look. She gestured for him to follow after their sibling and the silver prince. Not that Saige doubted Rhaegar’s capabilities of catching Elia should she slip or fall, but she knew her brother was quick, strong. Reliable, a net to catch Elia that Saige could count on.

It gave her peace of mind.

Saige took a final sip of her wine before she completely abandoned it with the litter. She settled with following behind them, letting Elia set their pace. Elia was surprisingly moving at a steady pace, eager to reach the top. Saige thought of suggesting she slow down, there were a lot of steps to traverse, but she didn’t say that. “Are there any alternative ways to get here? Stairless entry...secret tunnel? Maybe I’ll use a horse next time,” Saige jested, holding her skirt as she climbed with them.

“How did you manage to travel anywhere if you complain about stairs this much?” Oberyn teased.

“I picked the right travel companions.” Ones who could afford nice, plush seats for her to sit upon. Not that she truly minded activities like this. She enjoyed them, actually.

-

Rhaella closed the door after Aemilia, attempting to gather her thoughts enough to strike up a conversation. To have something for Aemilia to do other than sit and watch Rhaella get a grip on herself. Fortunately, Rhaella didn’t have to think. Aemilia spoke up, and Rhaella didn’t fail to figure that Aemilia knew just how scattered she was at the moment. And she didn’t point it out, which Rhaella was beyond thankful for.

Her eyes softened, and as she inhaled deeply and exhaled, her muscles relaxed. “That would be nice,” Rhaella nodded, smoothing her hand over her hair, only for stray strands to rise up again. “Thank you, Lady Aemilia.”

She sat herself in front of her vanity, though she didn’t allow herself a long look in the mirror. She didn’t want to know how obvious of a mess she was. It wasn’t that Rhaella was bad at fixing herself up, she simply had more time to do it, usually. “Well, when this occurs again I’ll be more prepared for it, as far as keeping you occupied goes.”

Since Aemilia was new, Rhaella had only planned to take her about a normal day, get her accustomed to the place, first. So she had nothing for Aemilia to do, really, nor did she have a chance to explain her usual routine when it came to Aerys and his requests for her presence.

“Hopefully next time you’ll have your bearings about this place and I can assign you a task or two. Maybe occupying Viserys or...something,” she mumbled. “I’ll send someone to fetch you, afterwards. The time it takes is usually undisclosed and I’d hate to have you waiting,” or for Rhaella herself to be unprepared for Aemilia’s presence once again.

“After that, however...well, little is restricted within the Keep to explore,” and she wasn’t allowed outside of it without Aerys’s permission, so she felt lucky to have mostly unbridled access. Sometimes she felt Viserys had more freedom than her. Which, sometimes, he actually did.

Likely because Aerys didn’t think his son was a lying whore.
 
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