You slip into your room – oddly enough, the door is not guarded, and you wonder if your father declared that your wife did not merit a Kingsguard with you dead. Probably; he never liked her.
Elia is sitting in a chair by the window, watching the sunrise and fingering a long-stemmed glass of wine. The wine, you can see, is rather warm, and you wonder how long she's been sitting there. She doesn't usually drink much – just sips from your cup. Her long black hair is undone, but the dress she's wearing is the same one she wore as you died yesterday afternoon. You close the door gently and she looks over at you – double takes, glances down at the decanter of wine, and sighs.
"I am such a lightweight," she grumbles. You let out a soft laugh.
"No, Elia, it's really me. I'm not dead." You step closer to her. Skeptical, she stands up, leaning on the arm of the chair for support – how much has she had to drink? – and pokes you in the chest experimentally. Then again. You catch her arm before she pokes you a third time. A shining river, fresh with life. Does everyone you know have magic hanging around them like this?
"I'm here, dear wife, and I'm alive. Perhaps you have had enough to drink?" you suggest. She considers for a moment, then nods. Pouring her wine back into the decanter, she fills her cup with water instead and starts gulping it.
"Water. The best hangover cure available, according to Oberyn. He tested it empirically," she says after finishing the first cupful. She fills her cup again and sits back in her chair. "So what happened to your eyes, then?"
"My eyes?" You suddenly wonder if Elia can tell that your vision has changed.
"Your eyes, Rhaegar. They're blue."
"I've always thought they were closer to violet…"
"No, they're…ugh, words. Just look in a mirror." Curious, you rummage through a chest until you find a hand mirror.
Sweet Meraxes, she's right. Your eyes have changed from dark bluish-violet to icy blue. With a start, you realize it's the same color as the eyes of the dragon in your dream – well, as close as you can get without dipping into the unearthly. "When did this happen? Was I walking around all night like this? Why didn't anyone say anything?"
"You talked to people?"
"I stood face-to-face with Tywin Lannister, there's no way he didn't notice! Why didn't he say anything?"
Elia shrugs. "I don't know what goes through Tywin Lannister's head. Maybe he felt like it was beneath him or something."
"If the king had noticed, he would have said something, wouldn't he? He's not good at keeping secrets," you think aloud.
"So what caused this?" she asks. "Was it your death situation?" You try to hide your uncertainty as you figure out how to respond. Your wife leans forward intently. "You know something, Rhaegar. I can tell."
This is the first time you've really had the chance to consider what happened to you when you…died, and the situation is honestly unnerving. Something is different about you now, and you don't understand it. Elia's the smartest woman you've ever met. Perhaps she could help you figure it out? You may not love her, but you are friends, and she keeps some of your secrets already (such as the shrine at Dragonstone).
On the other hand, there's always the possibility that she wouldn't believe you. She might think you to be as mad as your father, and then where would you be? You never told her about your dreams for this very reason. Or, even worse, she might believe you and come to terrible conclusions about what you are now – a demon, or a wight perhaps – based on half-true folklore. You might actually be some of those things, but you really don't need your wife to hate you for it. She's drunk right now – lying to her shouldn't be too hard.
[X] Tell her the truth about everything that happened since Lannister unhorsed you
[ ] Lie and claim that you have no idea what happened to your eyes Tell her the official story about Maester Pycelle's incompetence
[ ] Write-in Actually, there's another explanation you could give her…
