On Our Return to Westeros
The crunch of ice has been haunting our journey since we docked at White Harbour.
Why, in the name of all the gods, is there ice in summer!?
The journey across the Narrow Sea had been long and hard, despite the fact that our quarters had been more than deserving of our royal status. We each had our own rooms, where carpets adorned the floors and beds were laden with silk and furs. Father even brought along a singer to keep us entertained throughout the notoriously arduous journey, although he couldn't ever really stop vomiting for long enough to sing.
I was lucky - it turns out that sea sickness only affects me when the wind is gale force, so I found the journey interesting rather than harrowing, as did many of my siblings (and to my secret delight in the case of Annareil - not that I'd ever actually admit to that). I found that it gave me a great deal of time to write more about the last ten years we'd spent in Essos, and most especially about Lys, which was without a doubt, my favourite of the Free Cities. Nara, my best friend and lady's maid, wasn't seasick either for most of the journey (although she absolutely hated being at sea), so we kept each other company, laughing and already lamenting our time in Essos. Really, it wasn't too bad after all.
The same cannot be said for Westeros.
Lys had been so beautiful. At every turn there were the most exquisite buildings, made of limestone, granite and marble, and adorned with intricate engravings. In front of them, there was usually a chaotic mix of numerous sellers calling out and advertising their fresh produce, fish and shellfish, or even jewellery and clothes - you could get lost for hours in those markets. Then there was the sea, blue, crisp and sparkling, winking at you as if to tempt you to discard all your inhibitions and dive into its waters. And the sun was always shining, catching the gold, purple and silver tones in the buildings.
Since crossing the Narrow Sea, I haven't seen the sun.
And the sea was a nasty grey.
Onwards we go, following father as usual. Despite Lys being all the way South, father was insistent that we travel all the way North first, in order to work our way downwards through Westeros towards Dorne, paying our respects to each of the great Houses on our way (apart from the Greyjoys of course - father merely laughs at the fact that they are still considered a noble house).
And so we go, reversing the journey we had taken over ten years ago on our way to Essos.
Crunch, crunch, crunch…
Rather monotonous, just like the landscape. And the buildings - cold, grey stone.
It has taken us five days, but we have nearly reached Winterfell. I'll be glad to finally stop travelling, but I am slightly apprehensive about staying there. Last time we were at Winterfell, I didn't exactly make friends with the Stark children. Being the eldest girl in the family, I was shoved in the direction of Sansa, with everyone expecting us to become good friends. I liked her doll collection, but really that was about it; she was nice but that's about it - too girly and prissy for me. I tried to make friends with the boys - after all, my brother Lewyn and I were generally inseparable so I was used to tagging along with him. Apparently, that was not going to work either. Robb, Theon and Jon made fun of me the whole time, which eventually led to me and Robb getting into a scuffle (I can't really remember what sparked it all - but I do remember him being an arrogant git!). In the end, I just used to confine myself to the library, keeping away from everyone, but thoroughly enjoying myself; I absolutely love reading.
"Nara, do you remember much about Winterfell?" I ask.
"Not much, Princess", she says, "after all, I was only nine. I do remember the huge fireplaces though! It was so warm inside! And they always gave me enormous portions of food!"
"Haha! Trust you to remember the food!"
"Well, I was always starving! How I'm not fat I'll never know", she laughs. After some thought she continued, "I remember you and Lord Robb getting into a huge fight. Prince Mors so angry I'm surprised you're still alive, Princess!"
"Yes", I sigh, "I was just thinking about that. I wonder if Robb is still such a git!" I chuckle.
"Well, I hear he's quite handsome now, Princess", said Nara with a glint in her eye, returning the chuckle.
I roll my eyes. I refuse to be paraded in front of him, like some prize horse. Anyway, that's not in my 'contact' - I am to be a ward, not a wife.
Nine Martell children, one for each of the nine great houses of Westeros, and one to be left behind in each region throughout the length of this journey (again, apart from the Iron Isles); my eldest brother, Lewyn, and youngest, Zakar, will return to Dorne with my father. My father, ever the diplomat, came up with this scheme following the Robert's rebellion, and the death of his beloved sister. He no longer trusted my uncle, Prince Doran, with the protection or future prosperity of Dorne, and so, planned to forge strong alliances with each house in Westeros by leaving one of his children as ward, charged with keeping the peace for the safety of Dorne. Trying to marry each of us off would have been too complicated I presume - not that I would have wanted that!
This is really the biggest reason I have been dreading returning to Westeros. It means the loss of my family, and the loss of every person I care about. I will be left behind somewhere, all on my own.
Crunch, crunch, crunch…
Zakar squeals, jolting me out of my thoughts. "There there! Is that it?!" he shouts, pointing and gesturing in delight.
Yes, there it is - Winterfell.
A/N: Hi all! Thanks for taking the time to read my work :) This is actually the first fanfiction I've ever written - so please feel free to review and/or critique it! If you guys think its any good, I'll upload some more chapters.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places in the story, apart from the protagonist Princess Elia Martell- all rights belong to the fantastic G.R.R. Martin.