"What of it now? Brandon says he saw the Prince Oberyn Martell slay Lord Whent with his own two eyes," Rickard grumbled. It was their third meeting on the matter and he still could not fathom why they Frey's would commit such a crime. They would be marrying the first daughter, but perhaps the name wasn't what they wanted and instead land. But intentionally hurting the Martell's? Rickard thought. It made little to no sense to him.

"We let the King deal with it. It is not our fight to pick Rickard. We must move on forward. Our children will marry, we will become allies and then you will travel to Kingslanding to visit your daughter." Hoster sighed. The events of the dinner, though distressing, were not to be meddled with by anyone who wanted their head.

"I would not have minded you know. Had the King sent for my permission and allowed her to return home to be with her family for a time." Rickard scoffed seating himself on the various seats of the meeting area.

Hoster frowned. "Well, Lysa told me it was the King who suggested she go with them, so I doubt the Prince intends on anything."

Rickard wanted to show the disgust that he felt. He knew exactly why Aerys would make such a gesture. As if the Dornish were not isolating enough. As if they didn't provide him with the protection he saught away from Westerosi noble families, he would use his daughter. Rickard had no doubt that Aerys had every intention of making the truth known as soon as was possible, and he knew as a diplomatic minded King driven by family purity, he would banish Princess Elia from Kingslanding along with her children. What cruel fate one night of goodbye's had brought onto the world.

"Is everything alright Rickard?" Hoster asked, clicking his fingers for his cup bearer to pour him a glass of wine.

"Just a fathers concern. I suppose they must all be let go sooner or later aye?"

He found her in the ruins of the old stone towers, beating at the bodies of trees with a sword too heavy for her own good. "Ned won't be too happy when he sees what you've done to his sword will he now dove?" He chuckled. It was mid-winter, so her absence at dinner did not go unnoticed. It was far too cold to miss a good meal, and too cold to be outside hacking away at dead trees. She was only a girl of three and ten then.

The precious roses and lilies that she had planted with Lilia had all be beaten at as well, lay all over the white snow. The delicate blue roses, however, had been left untouched in their own section. She had insisted on laying them, for she thought that the place was too gloomy without them.

Rickard sighed. She was never one to not respond to his jokes or attempts. "Why did you leave the blue ones?" They reminded him of the blue dresses his elder daughter, Lyanna, preferred to wear. That was after much argument and threatening. Again, he was left to his own devices as she continued to throw the heavy sword down onto the tree. Arianne was using both her hands, letting out silent grunts as she did so. And when the sword would stick, she would mutter for a time, pull and then continue. "Is it because they are the hardest to grow? Or the rarest to find? I admit, they aren't...well weren't as beautiful as your pretty red roses."

Rickard knew that Arianne, his seemingly sweet Arianne, was prideful. And that the easier flowers were destroyed for a particular reason. For reasons that he knew to be connected to her vanity. Though Rickard wouldn't complain. The flower tending kept her busy, away from asking him questions about why everyone else had gone to the most recent feast and she hadn't. Though, he did notice that she enjoyed covering them with black furs from time to time, preventing the sun from giving the flowers their much-needed energy. Lilia had told him it was a sign that she liked abusing her power from time to time, showing the flower delicacy when she pleased and then a cruel ending when she pleased. A trait that Rickard wanted to sift out as quickly as possible.

He grew tired of her childish behaviour and walked towards her. At his sudden closeness, Arianne turned around-more snapped- around and glared at her father. Her face was red, her eyes had become puffy and she seemed to be breathing so heavily that her chest couldn't keep up with her. "What's happened?" He asked, becoming angrier by the passing moment at whoever might have caused her discontent.

"Why are my eyes purple?" She asked silently. Looking down at her feet, ashamed. "Why am I always announced last when guests come over, even though Benjen is the youngest? Papa, how can I be too high a rank to dine below the Lord's table and too low to be presented as a child of the Lord? Why does everyone else go everywhere with you, expect me? Are you ashamed of me?"

He looked at her, utterly incapable of answering her question. The answer was not one that would offend her, rather one that would anger her. How could he tell her?

The boasting voice of Lyanna came from behind him. "There you are! We were all beginning to get worried. Is everything alright?" She asked once more, frowning at the tension between them.

"Just fine," Arianne muttered, glaring at her father, throwing the sword to the floor and marching back into the courtyard grounds.

Lyanna made her way to her father. "You really must start letting her out. It's truly odd how you coop her up her all the time father. She's even started writing to that Greyjoy boy for a while."

"Greyjoy boy!?" Rickard yelled. When had she met a Greyjoy?

Lyanna let out a small laugh. "I'm only joking. I doubt she knows much about the Greyjoys other than their words and sigil." She looked at the flowers on the floor. "She left the winter roses only?"

"Aye," he said, looking at the blue flowers that followed the breeze. "They'll be gone by spring, I suppose she wants to keep them for a little while longer."

"Not one of our lovely Maester turned crazy's false spring alarms?" she asked, hinting at her disapproval to her recent betrothal to Robert Baratheon. He wouldn't tell her, but Maester Wyllis had vowed to Rickard that he was the perfect match, and no other man would give her happiness and power as Robert Baratheon could.

"No, no. I know it's almost over now. The snow falling is growing fainter day by day. Spring is on its way." He said, lightly touching the spatter of falling snow. "It's the first spring you'll remember." He smiled.

Lyanna smiled back at him. "Springchild, as Old Nan says."

"Springchild indeed." Though it was he and Lyarra who started the name for her. Her habit of springing from chair to chair during meal times as a child brought on the perfect nickname.

Rickard decided it best to leave such thoughts for when he was alone. Thoughts that it had consumed him, he wouldn't be sat frozen in front of the man hosting his first son's wedding. "Speaking of your daughters," Rickard smiled pulling out a small box from his breast pocket. Hoster frowned as he did so. "A family heirloom, worn by all the Stark brides on their wedding nights." He said. Rickard opened the square box made of leather, carefully as not to maim the direwolf carved into it. He turned the lid towards Hoster and pulled it open. "A crown. Not the crown of our old Kings and Queens if that is what you mean to ask. Merely one made of ice from the long winter...well we like to believe it has some traces of it within the diamonds and crystals," Rickard noted.

"I think it best Brandon presents it to her on their wedding day. Do you not? A form of sentiment to ease her mind," Hoster said.

Rickard scoffed. "If I know my son, her mind has been eased long ago, Hoster. Long ago."

...

Kingslanding - The Red Keep

Rhaegar managed to return to his much-missed room without tearing down the castle. The heavy steps of Ser Lewyne Martell followed him.

"How did you find me so quickly Lewyne?" Rhaegar laughed, turning to the man he considered a close friend.

Lewyne let out a small cough and cleared his throat. "I waited by the hall doors my Prince," he responded.

Rhaegar nodded his head. "Anything interesting happen while we were away?" Lewyne stayed silent, not wanting to tell Rhaegar the truth. "Well?" Rhaegar asked once more beginning to walk briskly once more.

"The Dornish party, they're gone. Well, everyone except for the youngest Manwoody girl and a few other smaller families."

Rhaegar stopped abruptly. "Do you mean to tell me that there is no one in court? That they left without getting the permission of their own King?" Rhaegar asked, stopping in his tracks.

"Not everyone in a sense. Oberyn's mistresses and some families have stayed. And of course, Stannis is here, wife-less-"

"Wife-less?" Rhaegar frowned.

"His wife has vanished...disappeared." Another man's loss is another man's gain. Rhaegar thought to himself. "He is here with his father, the Mooton's, Rowan's, Ryger's and Tarly's are all still present, though of course only the children. I overheard Ser Darry say that his longtime lover from Highgarden is arriving, so I presume the Tyrell's will make their arrival soon enough. And then...everyone in between I suppose, so the castle is not empty if that is what you fear my Prince. I doubt his grace would even know of the departure of the Dornish high lords," Lewyne said.

"Oh, he will notice alright," Rhaegar said, clicking his tongue in annoyance and worrying about the outcome for the families once his father had found out about their leave without ask.

"If you don't mind me asking, who did pass my lord?" Lewyne asked, ignoring Rhaegar's statement and trusting their friendship for an honest answer.

"If I were to give you names then I would need a while," Rhaegar responded. Though by the hurt look on Lewyne's face he reassured him, "no one you know too well. No first sons as I am aware of. No women, not many were present on the night actually."

"What was it like afterwards?"

Rhaegar sighed, not wanting to remember the aftermath.

"You planned this didn't you!?" Oberyn snarled as they were led to their rooms by Ser Barristan.

Rhaegar glared towards Oberyn, their brotherly spats were one thing but this was a step too far. "And why would I want to do that? Killing my own lords?"

"Well pray to your shit gods that my people leave unscathed or I will personally bring a war to your doorstep."

"Was that a threat or an invitation?"

"You decide."

"Let us just say, that Oberyn is longer pleased with me. But I'm sure he'll come around, once the truth is learnt," RHaegar responded.

"The truth?"

"Who planned the attack of course. Now let us walk in silence, I have missed this castle's grandeur."

As the sun set, it left the marble floors shining brightly and hurting the eyes of those who dared look down on such a luxury. Opening the door to his room, he saw that Elia had already been waiting for him to return and was seated on their bed staring out of the open shutter slats. The light had left the room in a bundle of violet and orange, a relaxing colour that made Rhaegar thank the gods for returning him promptly. He wondered if the sun set and rise would be similar in Dragonstone, or if it would be as cold and gloomy as his mother had explained so many times.

Their room had been left untouched, with the caged birds singing softly at the sight of their owner and jumping up and down from their different swings as he moved closer to Elia. He had forgotten that they hadn't been alone when someone cleared their throat. "Wine, my Prince?" Rhaegar nodded his head as the dark wine was poured into the golden cup. Rhaegar would never grow tired of it. Dornish wine. Free of charge, courtesy of his good family.

"Have you seen the children yet?" He asked Elia.

She looked away from him scoffing. "Have you?" His silence answered her question. "They were in good health if that is what you fear."

Rhaegar frowned. "Of course I fear their health, they are my children."

"The children who aren't enough for you apparently."

"You cannot truthfully tell me you're jealous. Our love ran dry years ago Elia, you said so yourself," Rhaegar snapped, angry she was speaking to him so.

Elia'smouth was a gap. "Jealous? Oh, those compliments have stained your head Rhaegar, I could never be jealous of the next woman who has the displeasure of marrying you."

"Displeasure!?"

"You forced me to have our children and all you can talk about is adding just one more ... one more dragon. They're children Rhaegar, not some fantasy."

Rhaegar could not believe what he was hearing. Perhaps three months of silence had caused her to snap in an unruly way. "Our duty is to have children? What did you think was going to happen? You prance around the place as everyone bows to you and relishes in your excellence."

"No! I thought that I would be given at least the option of declining. You have a brother who can have his own children, in Dorne-"

"Oh, in Dorne, in Dorne, in Dorne," he mimicked scrunching his face in discontent. "Do not fret dearest wife, you will return to Dorne soon enough."

"You can't separate me from my children for no reason."

"You can visit them for however many times you please, but I will raise them to be rulers," Rhaegar felt his voice raise. He turned away from her, wanting to make sure he kept his temper under control.

Elia looked at him, disgusted. "You...you dare keep them away from me after I fought death to bring them into this world."

He clenched his jaw. "Do you want Aegon to ever see the Iron Throne?"

Elia shook her head. She had truly lost him. "Those prophecies have eaten your sense away. Those dreams of yours Rhaegar, those are what caused me to stop loving you. Young maid in armour changing to a young maid, waiting for you by a lake. Whispering your name and the names of fallen dragons-" she scoffed, "-three-headed beasts that were tamed only by their master."

"Where are you going with this?"

"You have willed your dream to reality Rhaegar. They are nothing but dreams and you have forced yourself to believe otherwise," she said shaking her head in disappointment. "And now you wish to cause the dethroning of a future King, your son, because of dream you had."

"What has caused you to think this way?"

"Oh, so that little bastard is just a guest. Please, I know your father Rhaegar."

"Oh, you do?" It seemed she had struck a nerve, for he had screamed it out. "I do oppose her being here, but she is a guest Elia, nothing else. If we fall in love, let me fall in love with her as I have let you with Arthur. And as for our children, we'll figure it out." Elia felt her ears beginning to ring. Was he planning to just take it all away from her? As easily as he had given it? He continued on, but she wasn't listening. She already knew what it was he would say. Either return to Dorne with the children and Aegon would be cut off from the line of succession or return alone.

She kept repeating herself the words he would whisper to her constantly. The dragon must have three heads. She realised she must have been saying her thoughts out loud, for he was looking at her with pity.

"We were young once Elia, but not anymore."

"I am twenty and one, I am young Rhaegar. You were the one that took my youth from me." A short silence followed. "I suppose you saw this in your dreams. Saw Cersei and your mother jump up and down for joy at the thought of my disappearance. Saw the oh so young Arianne fall to her feet and praise you for ridding of the first wife."

"I was honest with you, she never appeared in my dreams."

"You see everything," she said bitterly. "But I know you leave the parts that are about me out."

"Almost," he agreed.

"Rhaegar...you fool." But he wasn't concentrating on her anymore, but the darkening sky outside. "What is it?" She asked him. He ignored her once more and made his way to the sheer curtains, moving them aside and stepping out onto the veranda.

"Look," he whispered, pointing to the sky. Elia smacked his hand down, she didn't need to be directed. The comet flashed through the sky and left a red streak behind it. It looked like the sky and begun bleeding. Elia covered her eyes as the flashes continued, showering the sky. Rhaegar however, looked calmly towards the comet.

"Rhaegar-" she said.

But he was busy whispering the words of the prophecy, "when the red star bleeds-"

And as he continued to whisper repeatedly she shook her head. "May all the Gods be good to you Rhaegar. Each and every one of them."

...