Teaser of Elia Martell/Rhaenys Targaryen/Jon Snow

Teaser of Elia Martell/Rhaenys Targaryen/Jon Snow - One Shot - Dragons can have whatever they Want

Elia Martell always believed in True Love. Since she was a fragile little girl, she always believed that from the moment they were born, they had someone out there who was destined to be their love, their soulmate.

She remembered her brother making fun of her, saying that True Love didn't exist. Elia always believed everything that came out of Oberyn's mouth. The two were always together, and she knew her brother loved her dearly, but on this one, she didn't believe him.

One day, Oberyn told her they would ride to King's Landing. Elia was never strong, she was always sick, and her Maester even told her that it was a miracle she didn't die as a baby, but miracles did exist sometimes, and she was allowed to grow, and live.

Because of her fragile health, like glass, she wasn't keen on the idea of riding to King's Landing, but her mother, as much as she loved her, was always strict with all of them. She ordered her to ride to the Capital and told her the Maester would come with them to make sure she didn't drop dead on the road to King's Landing.

Elia knew her mother desired their blood on the Throne, so Elia rode there with her brother and a group of soldiers to protect them. Thankfully, Elia had Ashara with her, and her brother, Arthur Dayne, was a Kingsguard, so Ashara told her many things about Prince Rhaegar, what she should expect, and everything else.

From her words, Rhaegar Targaryen sounded like one of the most handsome men in the world, with a voice that could make maides cry, but Ashara told her that he always seemed lonely, even in the company of his friends, like Arthur, Ser Barristan, his squire, and Jon Connigton.

Elia still remembered the day she met Rhaegar. The man was as handsome as Ashara had described, but she was right. There was loneliness in his eyes, and he always seemed too deep in thoughts, as if the whole world was resting on his shoulder. With the help of Ashara and Arthur, she was able to 'stumble' on him in the garden, where he spent time singing to himself.

Elia talked with Rhaegar for hours that day, and she was certain that his eyes seemed less lonely after she spoke with him. After that day, Rhaegar met with her secretly quite often until one day, they shared their first kiss.

Elia still remembered that day like it was yesterday. The feeling of his lips was something she couldn't even describe, but she knew she was happy.

But not everything was right. Despite what the majority thought, being a prince didn't always mean being able to do whatever you wanted, especially when the King was a madman.

Elia still remembered the day King Aerys looked at her for the first time and talked with her. Elia had never been more afraid; his eyes were like staring into the depths of hell. Rhaegar had promised her that things would get better once his father was gone. But they never did.

Eventually, she became pregnant and gave birth to Rhaenys and, one year later, to Aegon. But Rhaegar wanted another. The Maester told her that she couldn't have more children. So, it didn't take long for Rhaegar to meet Lyanna.

To this day, Elia still didn't understand why the two of them decided to run out like that and just leave a letter behind, according to Rhaegar, after she questioned him. Perhaps love made people blind, she didn't know, but it didn't take long for the rebellion to start and their whole family to be in danger. Elia had made it clear to Rhaegar that he and Lyanna had been beyond foolish by running away like that. There were so many other ways they could have done this, but instead, the two had chosen the most dangerous and foolish way of doing this.

Elia was relieved when she received the raven that Arthur Dayne had slain Robert Baratheon in the Trident, resulting in the Rebellion ending and the Lord's Surrender to Rhaegar.

Elia still recalled King Aerys claiming that he would burn all those who rebelled and how he would use the Wildfire to burn them all and turn them all to ash. But not even King Aerys expected what would happen once Rhaegar returned.

Elia wasn't there to listen; she always tried to avoid being in the same room as that madman, but Arthur told her that Rhaegar had yelled at his father, and the King had threatened his son until, eventually, Rhaegar had stormed out of the Throne Room followed by his two Kingsguards.

To this day. No one knew if it was suicide or if someone pushed him, but the next day. King Aerys Targaryen, the second of his name, was found on the Swords of the Throne. His body was cut in many places, and it was said that his mouth was open when they found him, yet no one had heard him scream.

The Maester later concluded that King Aerys must have tripped on the stairs, and this resulted in him falling on the swords and bleeding to death from the many slash wounds on his body. One of the swords had even sliced through his right eye.

Usually, people would mourn the death of a King, but Elia couldn't remember anyone shedding a single tear for the King, not even Rhaegar.

After the Rebellion ended and many Kingdoms were pardoned, Rhaegar and Elia were forced to make drastic decisions to keep the peace in Westeros, even if the Mad King was dead. Westeros had never been as fractured as it was now. Ashara had even told her that some Lords were thinking of announcing Independence, which would start a chain reaction. Soon, Westeros would be back to how it was before Aegon.

So, to please Tywin Lannister and have him on their side, they removed Jaime Lannister from the Kingsguards, and Prince Viserys Targaryen would marry Jaime Lannister's daughter in the future. This greatly pleased the old Lion, and he found a proper bride for Jaime within two weeks after he was removed from the Kingsguards and returned to Casterly Rock.

But that still left four other Kingdoms to please. With the Vale, they made Jon Arryn Hand of the King and annulled the marriage between him and Lysa Tully since it was never consummated.

Stannis Baratheon and Renly Baratheon weren't executed, and to make sure Stannis wouldn't rebel in the future. Lady Allana Velayron was married to Stannis. House Velayron was loyal to House Targaryen, so Rhaegar and Elia knew they would not rebel again.

Rhaegar had changed a lot after the Rebellion ended. Elia noticed that he rarely talked about Prophecy anymore, if ever. This became more apparent when he announced that House Targaryen would stop the marriages between Brothers and Sisters much to the Faith's delight. But Rhaegar didn't care about the Faith; he simply knew that he needed to bring peace, and the Prophecy had almost cost him everything he had.

House Tully had been displeased when the marriage between Lysa Tully and Daeron Arryn was broken, so Elia and Rhaegar came to a decision. Rhaenys Targaryen would marry Edmure Tully when the two were old enough.

This pleased Hoster Tully immensely. As for his daughter, Lysa Tully, Elia wasn't sure where she went or who she married and did not really care.

Aegon Targaryen would marry a daughter of House Tyrell, who was born three months later and was given the name Margaery Tyrell.

That left only the North. Rhaegar had decided to marry Visenya to Eddard Stark's heir, but five months after Robert's Death. Eddard Stark returned to the Capital with the body of Lyanna Stark and her son. Daeron Targaryen.

Elia Martell never remembered seeing Rhaegar as heartbroken as that day when they brought the body. Even the sight of the baby boy didn't help with his despair.

Elia quickly realized that Rhaegar wouldn't be much help, so she decided to take care of him herself.

Elia Martell made sure to feed him and raise him alongside her children. She was sure that Rhaegar would start caring for him once he stopped grieving for Lyanna, but until then, she would be the one to take care of him.

Elia never allowed the Wet Nurses to take care of her children, which led to Rhaenys meeting Daeron for the first time.

'"Muna, why isn't Kepa playing with me?" Rhaenys asked as she stormed into the room, her little face scrunched up with worry, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Elia patted the empty spot beside her on the couch, and Rhaenys obediently climbed up, folding her arms with a huff as she settled down.

"Your father's just... grieving, sweetling," Elia replied gently, brushing a strand of dark hair away from her daughter's face. "He'll come back to how he was, I promise. He'll play with you again soon."

Rhaenys seemed to take her mother's words to heart for the moment, her brow relaxing. But then her eyes darted across the room, landing on the two tiny beds. Aegon and Daeron were both fast asleep, their soft breaths barely audible, faces peaceful.

Elia watched as Rhaenys, ever curious, slipped off the couch and padded over to them, peering down at the babies. Her daughter stood still for a moment, her expression pensive as she studied them both, she looked at Aegon, before looking at Daeron, and then back at Aegon, and then back at Daeron, back and forth four more times. After a few rounds of this, she finally scratched her head and turned to her mother, confusion etched across her young face.

"Muna," she began, her little voice filled with bewilderment. "Why are there two Aegons now?"

Elia couldn't help it—the laughter bubbled up before she could stop it. It was the first time since the rebellion began that she had truly laughed, and once it started, it was hard to stop. She laughed until her sides ached, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. When she finally regained her breath, she wiped her cheeks and looked at Rhaenys, who was standing there with her arms crossed, looking every bit like she was trying to be stern.

"What's so funny?" Rhaenys demanded, puffing out her cheeks in frustration, trying to sound as commanding as a four-year-old could manage.

Elia smiled warmly, still catching her breath. "Oh, sweetheart," she said softly. She reached over to pick up baby Daeron, who stirred slightly in his sleep, letting out a soft whimper as his tiny hands balled into fists. His eyes fluttered open—violet and searching.

"Come here, Rhaenys," Elia coaxed, cradling Daeron in her arms and rocking him gently. "I want you to meet your new brother, Daeron Targaryen."

Rhaenys gasped, her eyes going wide with wonder as she shuffled back over to the couch, settling beside her mother. "Wowww," she whispered in awe, leaning in close to inspect her new brother. But after a moment, her little nose wrinkled in confusion again.

"But, Muna," she said, peering up at her mother, "your belly got really big with Aegon. Why didn't it get big with Daeron?"

Elia smiled, though her heart clenched slightly. Rhaenys was sharp—too sharp for her age sometimes. "That's not something you need to worry about, my love," she answered softly, though there was a heaviness in her voice. She held Daeron a little closer.

"Rhaenys," she said, her tone growing serious for the first time in the conversation, "you're the big sister now. It's your job to protect Daeron, to look after him. Can you do that for me?"

Rhaenys straightened up, her little face full of determination. "Yes, Muna. I'll take care of Daeron. Always."

Elia felt a rush of pride swell in her chest, and her heart ached with love for her daughter. Rhaenys leaned down and kissed Daeron softly on the cheek.'

16 Years Later

Inside the gently rocking carriage, the curtains fluttered as it meandered along the road to Riverrun, flanked by three other royal carriages. The interior was adorned with rich tapestries.

Elia adjusted her silk shawl, she looked at Rhaella who wore a blank look on her face, her lips closed tightly, she appeared unhappy.

"Yesterday, we received a raven," Elia said, breaking the heavy silence that had settled in the carriage. She turned to look at Rhaella, who was staring out the window, her expression unreadable.

Rhaella shifted her gaze briefly, the cold glint in her purple eyes flickering with mild interest. "From whom?"

"Daeron," Elia replied, allowing a small smile to touch her lips. "He's coming to Riverrun. With his wife."

For a moment, Elia expected Rhaella to show some measure of delight—after all, it had been five long years since the family had been together. But instead, the Queen Regent let out a sharp, dismissive sigh.

"Oh, lovely," Rhaella said with biting sarcasm, turning back to gaze out at the rolling hills. "Did no one tell him that Rhaegar will be here as well? Or, better yet, who invited him? I don't want a repeat of the last time." Her voice was as cold as the northern winds, and her eyes narrowed with disdain as she glanced toward the carriage carrying her son, the king.

Elia suppressed a shudder at the memory of the last encounter between Daeron and Rhaegar. It had been a disaster—one that no one spoke of. "That's why I invited him," Elia said, trying to sound hopeful. "It's been five years, Rhaella. I'm sure Daeron and Rhaegar are ready to forgive each other."

But Rhaella scoffed, shaking her head slowly, as if the very idea were laughable. "No," she said simply, her tone final, like the closing of a heavy door.

"Why not?" Elia pressed, her brow furrowing in concern.

Rhaella opened her mouth, as if about to speak, but then hesitated. Her lips closed tightly, and she returned her gaze to the window. Silence settled between them once more. Elia sighed softly, knowing she would get no answers from Rhaella today. Rhaegar refused to answer her questions, no matter how many times she tried. He never answered why that day happened, why Daeron was sent away, or what he had done wrong.

As the hours passed, Elia watched the landscape change outside the carriage window, fields giving way to the villages of the Riverlands. People lined the roads, cheering as the royal entourage passed by. Their voices rang out clearly, even through the thick walls of the carriage.

"Rhaegar the Good!"

"Rhaegar, the Just!"

Elia ignored the people cheering for their King, and why wouldn't they? Rhaegar was considered one of the Best Kings Westeros has ever seen since King Jaehaerys, and it is not like people knew what he was like in person; to them, all that mattered was that King Rhaegar was a good king.

Soon, the towering walls of Riverrun loomed into view, and the carriage passed through the massive gates. Elia's mind wandered to Daeron and the rest of House Stark. According to the raven, Lord Stark and his household would be attending the tourney—hosted by Hoster Tully in honor of his granddaughter, the firstborn of Rhaenys and Edmure Tully.

The carriage rolled to a stop in the courtyard, large enough to accommodate multiple house wheels. Elia glanced around, wondering if Daeron had arrived yet. She remembered that it had been Daeron who suggested the name for the child, a small gesture, though Elia found it curious that Rhaenys and Edmure had agreed. The naming of a child was something personal—something for parents, not uncles, to decide.

The carriage door creaked open, and Elia stepped out. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the crowd gathered outside Riverrun fell to their knees in reverence.

Elia scanned the area, catching sight of Rhaegar emerging from his own carriage. Despite the coldness that had settled between them these past five years, she approached him, slipping her arm through his. The last thing they needed were whispers and rumors spreading about a rift. They had enough problems without adding fuel to the fire.

Rhaegar, however, seemed distracted, his gaze darting around the courtyard as though searching for something—or someone.

"Rhaegar?" Elia asked softly, trying to steer him toward the waiting Tully household.

"Where is Daeron?" he murmured, almost to himself. His voice was quiet but strained.

Elia followed his gaze, realizing that Daeron was, in fact, nowhere to be seen among the faces gathered to greet them. She sighed, but gently tugged at his arm. "I don't know, but we need to greet the Tullys first."

With visible reluctance, Rhaegar allowed her to lead him forward. "Rise, my lords," he commanded, his voice now taking on the authoritative tone of a king.

The Tullys straightened, and Edmure stepped forward, offering a small but genuine smile. "Your Grace, welcome to Riverrun. It is yours. I apologize that my father couldn't greet you himself. He has been unwell these past few months."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rhaegar said, slipping effortlessly into his role as king. "Lord Tully. I wish him my best regards."

Elia watched as Edmure inclined his head, visibly relieved by the king's polite words. But before anyone could say more, Rhaenys approached, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. Elia's heart swelled at the sight of her daughter. It was a rare joy to see her smile again, especially after everything that had happened in the past few years.

"Father, Mother," Rhaenys began with a bright smile. "I'd like you to meet my daughter, Melinda Targaryen."

With a gentle hand, Rhaenys peeled back a corner of the blanket to reveal a pair of wide, violet eyes and soft silver hair. Elia's breath caught in her throat. The baby was the very image of a Targaryen—and in that instant, Elia felt an unexpected pang of recognition.

The baby's eyes—they were just like Daeron's.

"Ooh, she's taken after the Targaryens, hasn't she?" Rhaella cooed, leaning over to press a soft kiss to the baby's brow. "Like her great-grandmother."

Rhaegar, meanwhile, stared down at the child, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought before he finally spoke. "Yes... she must have taken after me," he said, but there was something off about the way he said it, a hesitance that didn't escape Elia's notice.

Before Elia could dwell on it, Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, stepped forward. His face was set in a deep frown as he glanced at the baby, his eyes hard. "Like a white dragon," he muttered, his tone laced with something Elia couldn't quite place. Was it bitterness? Suspicion?

But before she could ponder his words further, Edmure stepped in, his voice eager to diffuse the moment. "Please, come inside, Your Grace. You must be weary from the road. We've prepared chambers for you in the guest house, with warm baths and food waiting."

Royal Chambers - Later

"Do they know how to cook anything other than fish?" Viserys grumbled, awkwardly poking at the roasted fish with his fork, peeling at the skin with little success. Frustrated, he gave up and stabbed a boiled egg instead, biting into it with irritation.

"Visy, you know you'll eat anything once you're drunk," Daenerys teased, her lips curling into a playful smile as she raised her eyebrows in a strange, exaggerated way.

"Very funny, Dany," Viserys muttered, rolling his eyes as he reached for the wine pitcher. "And when you're drunk, you dance like a frog."

Daenerys giggled, a soft sound that echoed in the chamber. Her gaze drifted across the room, settling on Rhaenys, who was gently rocking her baby in her arms. She then turned her attention back to her brother, noticing how tense he was. He hadn't touched much of his food or drink, and his eyes kept flicking toward the baby in Rhaenys' arms with a mixture of unease.

Dany wasn't really surprised if what her brother feared was the truth, she still remembered the many, many times she had to cover for them when they were in the Red Keep. That kind of passion doesn't just go away even when married to someone else, especially when you are married to someone you don't have feelings for and, at worst, someone you don't like spending time with.

"When will Ari and the others arrive?" Daenerys asked softly, her tone gentle as she tried to steer the conversation away from her brother's obvious discomfort.

"How should I know, sweet sister?" Viserys snapped, his annoyance clear as he poured himself more wine.

Dany opened her mouth, ready with a sharp retort, but before she could speak, Viserys added, "Don't worry, Dany. Your little lover will show up soon enough."

Her eyes narrowed into a glare, but at least no one else seemed to have heard him.

"At least I have one," she shot back, her voice low but biting. "I don't have to imagine things and use my fingers. I get to experience the real thing."

"Myrcella loves me," Viserys countered, his voice defensive.

"Right. That's why she spent every night with the Sand Snakes instead of you when you were in Dorne. And why she nearly kissed mein the garden and almost fainted when she first saw Arianne." Daenerys delivered the words smugly, taking a leisurely sip of her wine and enjoying her brother's discomfort.

Viserys opened his mouth, clearly ready to fire back, but the door creaked open, and both siblings turned toward the entrance. Daeron stepped inside

Wow, he has grown even more handsome! Dany thought at the sight of her sweet nephew.

"Aegon!" Daeron was barely through the door before his brother rushed over, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"I missed you, brother!" Daeron exclaimed, returning the embrace just as fiercely. When they pulled apart, Aegon looked him up and down with an approving grin.

"Look at you! Almost a man now—if only you were as tall as me," Aegon teased, ruffling Daeron's hair.

"Shut up," Daeron mumbled with a grin, rolling his eyes, just as Daenerys and Viserys approached.

"Nephew, you look like a proper Northerner now," Viserys chimed in, clapping his nephew on the back. "All you're missing is a beard down to your belly."

"Thanks for the advice, Uncle Visy, but I'll pass on the beard—I'd hate to be mistaken for you!" Daeron quipped, earning a laugh from the group. Then, he turned to Daenerys, his expression softening.

"Auntie, I almost didn't recognize you. I think Shiera Seastar might finally have some competition for the title of the most beautiful woman in Westeros," he said with a teasing smile.

Daenerys flushed, her lips curving into a smile. "Charming as always, nephew. You don't look too bad yourself. Did the Northerners teach you to talk like that?"

"The Northerners are allergic to flirting, Auntie," Daeron replied, smirking. "But they—"

His voice trailed off as his gaze landed on Rhaegar, who had been standing in the background. The warmth drained from his face, replaced by a frosty stare.

"Your grace," Daeron greeted coldly, the words like shards of ice. "I never thought I'd see you outside the Red Keep."

Rhaegar grimaced. "Can the rest of you leave the chamber? I need to speak with my son," he said, addressing the room.

Everyone exchanged uneasy glances before quietly filing out, leaving father and son alone.

The door clicked shut, and Daeron's glare sharpened. "What can I do for you, your grace?" he asked, his voice dripping with venom.

Rhaegar winced at the formal address, a pained look crossing his face as he stepped closer, extending a hand to his son. "Daeron... I'm your father," he reminded gently, his voice soft with regret.

Daeron let out a bitter laugh, stepping back to avoid the touch.

"Your son? Are you sure? You must have mistaken me for someone else, because I don't think fathers threaten their sons. I don't think fathers call-" "You know I didn't mean it. I would have never done that." Rhaegar cut him off, his voice raising in volume, but Daeron wasn't afraid of him. Many people were afraid of Rhaegar Targaryen; even Aegon knew not to be on his bad side, but Daeron wasn't one of them.

"I don't think I know that, your grace. After all, you made sure I would never know you well. To me, you were always almost like a stranger, until I was six name days. I didn't even know you were my father." Daeron said with bitterness and rage, and he could see the king's expression shatter like glass.

"So, what do you want from me, your grace?" Daeron spat the title with venom. "I'm not naïve enough to believe you're here because you missed me."

Rhaegar visibly recoiled, the weight of his son's words hitting him harder than any physical blow. For a moment, the king seemed at a loss for words, but he finally spoke, voice strained with emotion.

"...I heard you gave the name to Rhaenys' child."

Daeron's brow furrowed. "Yes. What about it?"

"Daeron," Rhaegar said cautiously, stepping closer. "I don't want you coming to Riverrun again."

"What?" Daeron's voice erupted with fury, his blood boiling like molten lava. "You married me to the Starks despite knowing how I felt, and now you forbid me from coming here?!" His hands trembled with rage. He knew he shouldn't shout at the king, but the anger bubbling within him couldn't be contained any longer.

"Daeron!" Rhaegar's voice boomed like thunder, his patience fraying. His eyes blazed with the authority of a king, but just as quickly, they softened with regret. "I am your king," he said more quietly, though no less firmly. "I am ordering you—you are not to return here. Not unless it's for a tourney."

The command was final.

Daeron stared at him, the man who was supposed to be his father.

"Mother would be disappointed in you," Daeron hissed, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury. The words struck Rhaegar like a dagger to the heart, his composure crumbling again.

Without another word, Daeron turned on his heel and stormed out.

Night

Elia smiled slightly as she watched Aegon dancing with Margaery. Princess Arianne spun with Daenerys. But as Elia scanned the hall, her smile faltered. Rhaenys and Daeron were nowhere to be seen.

She remembered Daeron muttering something about being tired and retiring early. She couldn't blame him, not after the tension in the royal chambers. Despite not witnessing it firsthand, Elia knew the conversation between Daeron and Rhaegar had ended just as poorly as the last time. At least this time, no one had been slapped. But she still couldn't understand why Rhaegar was treating their son like this.

Elia shook herself free from those thoughts and continued to glance around for Rhaenys. Her daughter was nowhere to be found. Her gaze flickered to where Rhaegar was deep in conversation with Lord Edmure and the Blackfish. Deciding she needed fresh air, Elia rose from her seat, excusing herself by telling Rhaegar that she wasn't feeling well and wanted to leave the hall early.

Ser Arthur Dayne fell into step behind her. As she passed her chambers, he finally spoke. "Your Grace, where are we going?"

But Elia didn't answer him, instead she walked outside of the castle, towards the God's Wood of the Riverun. This part of the castle was completely isolated, and no one was around, and why would they be. There were no believers of the Old Gods in Riverun, so there were no guards or anything nearby. Elia walked into the small tower that had a backyard.

Then she heard it.

Moans.

She froze. She recognized that sound all too well, even if it had been five years since she last experienced it with Rhaegar. And she recognized the voice.

Rhaenys.

A wave of dread crashed over her. Elia's mind raced, piecing together what she knew. Edmure was still inside, talking with the King. It couldn't be him. But if not him... then who?

Her body tensed, ready to march in and confront whoever was with her daughter when she heard Rhaenys again, her voice strained with passion.

Valonqar!!!

The Full Version of All One Shots written so far are available for Sergeant Tier or Higher.