(personal correspondence) (to ashara dayne)
My love—
My husband has informed me of your telegrams and I will have you know there is nothing to fear.Your theft has raised no opposition and I should arrive within a few days. In fact, I believe Rhaegar will be relieved to have some time to himself—we’ve left someone to watch the children and while I’ll certainly miss them, perhaps, I, too, need to clear my head.
I am afraid you fear for me too much.
As for what you say about being trapped—you musn’t take me too seriously, you know I get into—moods, as it were and I certainly wouldn’t have written it if I believed I’d caused you to worry. I am well, as ever and will ever be—I hold myself up and you know that and you should not worry about me.
As for Rhaegar, he is kind, yes. Perhaps kind is never quite the right word for it—he never seems quite present to me, almost but that is simply his nature. You were never present either, always somehow separate from everyone, but we were in that together, I suppose—we were arrogant, children, weren’t we? We supposed ourselves miles above everyone, distant. I suppose it was the only recourse I had in those days—I was so miserable back then. But I am not miserable now, and you musn’t think I am! The amount of space my husband puts about himself may not always be pleasant but it is his way and I wait and go about my ways and he returns. It’s a system we have, almost.
As for calls and other social occasions, you must not bring yourself to the world unless it is your wish. If, however, it is, I will be by your side at every instant you wish me there. Perhaps I shall give a party on my return to London and you shall begin in a friendlier space. I do look forward to seeing you.
I will insist, however—you do not have to call on anyone you do not truly wish to see. Forcing yourself is unnecessarily cruel and I will not allow you to be cruel to yourself.
My love,
E.
MY MAUDLIN CAREER CAMERA OBSCURA
they say i’m too kind and sentimental
like you could catch affection
In the next installment of the RP paint adventures, how Elia Martell and Ashara Dayne’s beautiful romance was ruined by outside problems. Like Stark sperm and Cousin Matthew.
(personal correspondence) (to major eddard stark)
Dear Major Stark,
I thank you for your kind words in regards to me and I’m sure I never intended to call your honor into question. I am truly sorry if my concern has offended your sensibilities and can only hope my apologies will meter such offense.
While the honor of men such as yourself may always be a mystery to me, I am sure you have, as you say, acted as you deem appropriate and will as ever continue to do so. I only ask that thought as well as honor influence your actions, particularly with regard to ‘very old friends’ but perhaps it is not my place to say.
To speak of ‘old friends’, I am sure my husband is eager to see you and your family again when in London.
Yours sincerely,
E. Targaryen.
(personal correspondence) (to major eddard stark)
Dear Major Stark,
I apologize if sending this letter is overly familiar on my part. We never knew each other well in our youths and while I hesitate to impose by writing, I feel the need to speak to you now.
Ashara informed me that she has written to you—I’m not sure entirely what she said and you certainly are under no obligation to share it with me. I trust you are aware her health has been in decline over the years, particularly exacerbated by her connection with you and I beg you to keep this in mind if you do choose to receive her. While I’m sure, for you, your connection with Ashara must seem very distant indeed, her mental state and mode of operating mean she thinks differently than you or I. I beg you to be kind to her, or if you cannot manage that, at the least, be distant. If you loved her once, allow what remains of that love to become at the least, sympathy and pity.
Please forgive my impropriety in writing. I see no reason why we should not be in complete agreement.
Sincerely yours,
Elia Targaryen.
(personal correspondence) (to ashara dayne)
Ashara, my love—
It feels so long since we’ve last spoken. It gave great joy to simply see your writing once more and to know that you are well (scribbled out) better.
I am returning to England within a few weeks. I confess I have little love for this country, really. My last stay here, aside from you, brought me no joy whatsoever and I tell myself I’m being childish by not wishing to return, that a few years at a school shouldn’t influence me but there’s truthfully nothing I want less than to return. It was Rhaegar’s decision to accept the position and however it may influence me and the children, who am I to argue? It is his career, not my own and therefore, his to decide. I had half a mind to stay in Germany with the children but wherever Rhaegar goes, it seems I am pulled—and besides, there is poor Oberyn and you to think of. It seems I am trapped.
“This poor seat of England.” Do you remember when you did that speech, at school? You in boys’ trousers, tall as a man, with your sharp chin pointing upward. This poor seat of England. I almost laughed at that. I hope it hasn’t seemed as though I’ve abandoned you, over these years—I can’t tell you how often I’ve thought of you, how often I’ve wished things were different. Rhaegar keeps so much to himself, now as ever and I miss having someone I’m able to speak to, a faint brush of honesty in this world. He lies to me, I think, but I don’t know what about, nor, I confess, do I want to. It’s probably my own imagination, really.
I’ve felt empty without you, for so long, even with Rhaegar, even with the children. I was greatly distressed to hear of my brother’s death—Oberyn always was a foolish boy but I confess a part of me thought him impenetrable, whatever he did. He was strong. I am not strong (scribbled out).
But what am I saying? You are the one who needs me, whatever I say and I will attempt to be at my best for you, Ashara. I will call at the soonest possible time—tell me when I should come. It seems so long since I have so much as looked upon you. Too long. It has not been right for us to be separate, I think. Perhaps being in each other’s company once more will relieve some of the awful hollowness.
My love, now and always,
Elia Targaryen.
( ooc )( private messages )
This is just a note to say, if you’ve sent me an ask/submit to any of my three accounts or my personal account @ riverran in the past day or two and haven’t heard back from me, your note might have either been eaten by Karp or got lost in the shuffle, so please follow up with me! I don’t want to ignore you and I’d like the opportunity to play with each and every one of you - but it’s tricky trying to log in and log out to the various tumblr accounts and so things kind of get hinky every once and a while. Sorry for the delay in responses!
i know the weight of your throat (songs for ashara and elia, the falling).
KISSING THE LIPLESS THE SHINS
secretly i want to bury in the yard
the grey remains of a friendship scarred
you told us of your new life there, you got someone coming around
gluing tinsel to your crown, he’s got you talking pretty loud
-
you tested your metal of doe’s skin and petals
while kissing the lipless, who bleed all the sweetness away
PRESSING FLOWERS THE CIVIL WARS
you and i, well, we’re just pressing flowers
they die, but they’re ours
meet me in a poem of an iron bed, wipe the dust away
meet me in the tin times from long ago, trace the lines of my face
ooh, whatever you do
ooh, keep it with you
I DIED SO I COULD HAUNT YOU STARS
the lights from the warm houses haunt them
they forgot what they lost but they know it was good
i was only a girl when i wore those clothes
i was unfaithful, i lived as i chose
i want only to haunt you, but you’re never there
BONFIRE MEMORYHOUSE
i left your photo in this pool
with all the thoughts i weave in order to recall you, you
-
let’s get cold together, together
let’s get cold together, oh, together
TWO DOVES DIRTY PROJECTORS
your hair is like an eagle
your two eyes are like two doves
but our bed is like a failure
all day up in the family, at the waning of the light
to the chamber that conceived me
call on me, call on me, call on me
FAKE EMPIRE THE NATIONAL
it’s hard to keep track of you
falling through the sky
we’re half-awake in a fake empire
PLAYGROUND LOVE AIR
i’m a high school lover, and you’re my favorite flavor
love is all, all my soul
you’re my playground love
now my hands are shaking, i feel my body reeling
time’s no matter, i’m on fire
on the playground, love
PROBLEM QUEEN DANGER MOUSE AND DANIELE LUPPI
have you seen the problem queen?
she’s never far away, away from me
and it seems all a dream, some sad luxuryof when i escaped
-
she comes and she goes but where no one knows
and when her highness grows, she shakes me
I KNOW THE WEIGHT OF YOUR THROAT SUNSET RUBDOWN
you ring your bell and smile at me
i drink from your well and fall down
you bring the shells above your knees
around my ears they ring out silently, they ring out silently
found out the way to your goals
i know the weight of your throat
my heart was to thy rudder tied
Elia Martell Targaryen is the only daughter of the prominent Martell family. Her childhood was fairly happy until at the age of fourteen, she was sent to a girls’ boarding school in England. Elia was miserable at school, homesick, isolated and very deliberately made to feel like an outsider by the other girls. She had few friends and concentrated on her studies, though she did bond with her classmate Ashara Dayne and the two remained close friends up until Ashara’s disappearance a few years later.
Though she’s aware that her husband Rhaegar’s feelings for her are more lukewarm than her own, she knows he does love her and she channels a large amount of herself into their relationship. Elia is very passionate and much of herself goes to Rhaegar and her two children.
Elia has a sweet temper, but she’s by no means weak. She's also a deeply principled woman. While less politically active than the rest of her family, she’s certainly politically conscious and feels strongly about Indian independence and women’s suffrage. (She’s as yet unaware, however, that her husband is a German spy.)
Elia’s relationship with her brother had become more distant over the years, but she was deeply shocked and saddened to hear of his death.
