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"Good father," Elia called out. "I have brought you wine."
Ser Jaime Lannister was shifting from foot to foot, his face white and older than his years. His eyes were red rimmed and frantic. Elia wondered why.
"Your Grace, it's from a new barrel.... It's good luck to drink the first cup," Elia said slightly louder. The jug was light and covered at the top. The cold night's air brought goose bumps on Elia's arms. Her hair was loose, her face bare for the first time all day. She wore her Dornish garb and a single, gold anklet that was given to her by her father. Elia felt more like herself in this moment than any other time.
"Enter!" A reedy voice shouted. Ser Jaime stepped aside while pushing open the door.
Aerys' chamber was hot as both hearths had a roaring fire going. It made Elia wonder how he heard her. She set the jug down next to a goblet before filling it to the brim. The King took the cup willingly and held it to the light where it shimmered red.
"To your good fortune, Your Grace," Elia said.
"I have not had any," said the strange king. He ran a scabbed finger along the length of the goblet.
"You will," Elia said with conviction. "The war is not lost yet. Viserys will accomplish what Rhaegar could not."
Aerys' beady purple eyes snapped to her face. He pointed long nailed fingers at her.
"Watch your mouth. Rhaegar was a fool but he was worth a thousand Dornish whores," he said, his thin voice rising. "Had you served him well, this matter would have been resolved."
Elia smiled. "He had two children in two years. Not even your Queen-"
The King jump to his feet, the liquid in his cup spilling. "I warn you wench. I'll feed you to the fires."
He brought the cup to his mouth and drank deeply. "Disgusting," he slurred. "What is this? Where is it from?"
"Oh, you don't know?" Elia said surprised.
Aerys narrowed his eyes and drank the rest. The cup fell from his hand and he stumbled to his knees. Elia picked it and filled it again.
"Drink once more, Your Grace," she said. She knelt in front of him and tipped the fluid into his open mouth. "To all the Kingdoms. To my children. To Dorne."
Aerys swallowed, moaned and gagged until most of it was on his shirt. He fell back with a sob.
"Poison," he rasped after trying to speak for a long time.
"Of a kind. Milk of poppy and crushed roses. You will sleep and never wake up," Elia told him. "Tell your son that my children will be raised as Martells."
Ser Jaime jumped when the door opened suddenly. He looked over her head and drew back.
"He is only asleep," she said gently.
"His chest isn't moving-"
"He is only asleep,” Elia repeated firmly. “Tell the gold cloaks that the King wants the gates closed until Tywin Lannister proves himself."
Ser Jaime blinked. "Yes," he said breathing heavily, shaking his head. "I will."
He walked away, straightening with every step.