Elia of Dorne, The polygamous

It was all Elia could do to keep Oberyn from challenging Rhaegar to a duel. She was quite upset herself, and it was concern for her brother, not her husband, that made her restrain him. Part of her wanted to see Oberyn beat Rhaegar, but even if Rhaegar accepted the duel, Aerys would be angry and suspicious. The king jumped at shadows these days and even an attempt by his good daughter’s brother to defend her honor would seem like treason to him. Elia had no wish to watch Oberyn burn. She thanked the gods when he finally relented and left Harrenhal.

Only then did she show her anger, beating a feather pillow with her delicate fists. She had sent her ladies and maids all away. Their pitying looks and gentle words would only make her cry instead of comforting her as they’d intended, and Elia would rather be angry than weep.

What had Rhaegar been thinking? She would not mind if he took lovers, though to her knowledge he never had, but to give another woman that crown of roses? It hurt her deeply. She was not a vain woman and it mattered not to her if her husband found the Stark girl more beautiful than she. But she was Rhaegar’s wife and he owed her basic courtesy. It was unheard of for a man to ride pass his wife and choose another woman Queen of Love and Beauty. He had shamed her before half the realm. Why?

Rhaegar had always been a good husband to her. He was prone to melancholy and he could be aloof at times, but that was his nature and she did not let it bother her. He had never so much as raised his voice to her. She could not understand why he would do such a cruel thing now.

She paced the spacious chamber Lord Whent had given to them for the duration of their stay at Harrenhal, trying to decide the best approach when Rhaegar came. Should she rage at him, or stay silent and cool and shame him into remorse? There was also the fear that he would not come; that he might be with Lyanna Stark at this very moment. It could not be, she told herself. Lyanna was the daughter of a great house, not some common girl, and her brothers and her betrothed Robert Baratheon were in attendance.

A betrothal was not a marriage though. The High Septon would terminate it if asked, and Lord Stark would surely consent to his daughter’s marriage to the crown prince. It did not matter that Rhaegar was already wed to Elia. She had borne him only one daughter, and the Targaryens valued daughters even less than the others who followed Andal law. She would not be able to hold back Oberyn if Rhaegar set her aside. There would be blood.

With nothing to do, her anger faded, leaving her exhausted. She slept, awakening only when she felt movement beside her.

“I’m sorry I disturbed you, my lady,” Rhaegar said.

For a moment Elia was tempted to pretend nothing amiss had happened that day. But the illusion would end when she left their bed chamber and had to endure the looks and whispers sure to abound. “Why, my lord?” she asked simply.

Rhaegar seemed genuinely perplexed. “Why what, Elia?”

“Why did you choose that girl instead of me today?”

“I wished to show my regard for her and there was no other way that would not garner questions from my father.”

“What has she done to earn your regard?”

“I believe she was our mystery knight, though she denies it.”

It was possible. She had heard something about Lyanna Stark attacking some squires who were making mock of a frog eater. Elia remembered because her ladies had joked that Lyanna might do the same to the young Lord of Storm’s End if he continued wenching after they were married. It was commendable of the girl, and she had jousted well. But in showing his regard for her, Rhaegar had disregarded his wife.

“And what of your regard for me?”

“You’re not upset, are you?” Rhaegar sounded truly surprised, as if he had never even considered the possibility of Elia being displeased.

“Did you not see the way everyone looked at me? They must think I am the worst wife in the realm for my husband to dislike me so.”

“I had not thought of that. I’m sorry for any disrespect you suffered.”

Elia believed him. Rhaegar’s mind was often elsewhere, with his books and his songs. She did not know if it lessened his offense or made it worse. She could only sigh and forgive him. “Sing a song for me tomorrow so the lords and ladies know you have not spurned me.”

“I will, my lady.” He touched her shoulder. “Rhaenys is weaned; it is time we have another child. The dragon must have three heads.”

“Not tonight.”

Rhaegar had declined the offer when Elia suggested they invite Ashara to their bed shortly after they were wed, and his shocked expression had discouraged her from ever suggesting it again. Therefore she was rather surprised when he asked if she would allow Lyanna Stark to join them.

“Why?” she asked.

“The Starks are of the icy North. I now believe the Prince Who Was Promised will be born of a union between Stark and Targaryen.”

Elia did not take talk of prophecies seriously and was not bothered that Rhaegar had demoted their infant son. However she found it rather convenient that he’d decided the same girl he’d felt such high regard for at the Harrenhal Tourney was destined to be the mother of his prophesied savior. With any other man it would have been an absurd excuse to commit adultery, but Rhaegar was sincere in his belief that the Long Night was coming and he needed to save the realm of man.

“Robert Baratheon will not be happy to find his bride carrying your bastard,” she told him.

“Lyanna is trying to persuade Robert to release her from their betrothal. He loves her and is reluctant to accept that she does not share his feelings.”

Elia wondered whether Lyanna believed Rhaegar’s prophecies or whether she was in love with him and had seized the excuse to be with him. She knew which was more likely. If she refused him, he would bed Lyanna anyway. It had been a long time since Elia had had a woman in her bed and Lyanna was quite comely. She gave her consent.

She didn’t expect him to leave the room and return with Lyanna almost immediately. It annoyed Elia, but she hid her annoyance for Lyanna’s sake. “It is good to see you, Lady Lyanna. You are very beautiful.”

Lyanna curtsied awkwardly. “Thank you, Your Grace. I’m glad you…approve. I would not like to make you unhappy.”

Elia smiled wryly. “My lord husband says we will save the world.” Lyanna seemed to be holding back laughter and Elia knew her suspicion about the girl’s motive was correct. “Call me Elia and I will call you Lyanna, is that agreeable?”

“Yes.”

“Are you still a maiden, Lyanna?”

Rhaegar appeared shocked that Elia would ask an unwed highborn girl such a thing, but Lyanna only laughed. “I am. Robert has tried to take his husbandly rights early, but I have not allowed it. I put my knee between his legs once.” She shook her head. “It only made him more determined to wed me. He says he will enjoy my spirit.”

No doubt she would lose her appeal when her belly grew big with another man’s babe. Robert would not want to wed her then. That must be why Rhaegar was not waiting until her betrothal was broken.

Elia rose and took Lyanna’s hand. She led her to the bed. “It will hurt a little when your maidenhead is breached, but I’ll make you more than ready.”

She kept her word, using her tongue to make Lyanna so wet she cried out in pleasure, not pain, when Rhaegar finally entered her. Elia was a bit jealous that Rhaegar spared no attention for her, but Lyanna made up for it. She insisted on pleasuring Elia as Elia had pleasured her.

“It is a better way to save the world than bloody battles, is it not?” Elia teased.

Lyanna laughed this time. She kissed Elia softly, and then said, “I am truly grateful. I don’t think I could have been as generous if I was in your place.”

Elia could have told her that it was easy for her to be generous. She had borne Rhaegar a son and the High Septon would never permit him to set her aside. She cared for her husband, but she did not love him in the way singers sang of and she was not hurt that he loved another woman. This liaison between Rhaegar and Lyanna cost Elia nothing. It could cost Lyanna everything though. She was a sweet girl and Elia hoped for her sake that it did not.