"What have you done to my daughter?" Father's voice booms throughout the empty court.

"What are you talking about?" Mother returns, her tone filled with irritation as usual, but with a touch of confusion now.

"You've turned her into some airheaded mockingbird that does and says whatever you want her to!"

"I have done no such thing, Robert!"

Father stands in front of the Iron Throne, his crown slanted atop his head as he flails in anger. His chubby cheeks are bright red, even beneath the scraggly beard. Mother stands below, glaring up at the man she was forced to marry several years before. She denies having any effect over me, but we all know that's a lie. She has finally managed to sink her claws into me, despite how hard I have fought in my short life. I have become the little princess she always wanted and the person I never wanted to be.

I could see his disappointment earlier when he found me sewing. The crowned stag that I had been embroidering on a new dress did little to impress him. The look of disgust only grew as I described what my last few days had consisted of: sewing, singing, playing the harp. Things I never cared to do before, but had seemingly grown to love in the recent months. A feat that could only be accomplished by the Queen.

"Haven't done anything?" he roars. "I barely recognize her!"

I feel the sharp sting of his words. While I know it isn't an exaggeration, it still hurts. I was once my father's favorite and I fear he may dismiss me as he does to Joffrey now that I've become the image my mother wants. And if both my parents do not care for me, what will I do?

"Eliana was out of control, Robert, and you allowed it. She is finally behaving as a princess should and not as a little boy in the streets."

"She was only person in this awful castle that could bring life to it! You have snuffed out the light in her and replaced it with your own misery, Cersei!"

His words become too much for me and I quickly slip out of my hiding spot behind a back pillar and run to my chambers. I nearly collide with my brother as I round a corner. I hadn't realized my eyes were filled with tears until I register the delighted sneer on his face. Taking full advantage of an opportunity to kick me when I'm down, he begins spewing mean words, attempting to make the tears fall against my best efforts.

"What are you sniveling about? Mother catch you doing something stupid again?"

"Shove off, Joffrey," I mutter as I try to pass him, but he blocks my path, pushing me backwards.

"What was that, crybaby?" he hisses.

"Get out of my way!"

"Or what? You'll tell Father? Haven't you heard, Ellie? He doesn't like you anymore."

Even though my brother is a liar, this feels like the truth and he succeeds in trying to hurt me as the tears begin to roll down my cheeks. Joffrey's responding grin only sickens me with anger and I'm soon shoving him back with as much force as I can muster. The act catches him off guard enough that loses his balance and tumbles to the stone floor on his bottom.

"At least he liked me once!" I yell before taking off in a sprint, avoiding whatever he would have said to reciprocate.

…

Several days pass after eavesdropping on my parents' conversation and Father has not spoken to me once. He hasn't come to see me or requested I join him at court, he doesn't even spare me a glance when we're in the same room. I'm sure he no longer loves me as I have become what my mother wants and Father has never and could never love her. Each time, the idea of losing my father's favor sends a wave of sadness through me and I fight with all my might to keep the tears at bay.

I'm confined to my chambers for a day after Joffrey went to Mother and told her I pushed him. When I tried to tell my side of the story, she wouldn't hear it – as always. The only thing she cared to say was that princesses do not push people, especially not princes. My little brother was clearly pleased that his entire plan seemed to come to fruition with little effort on his part and I was stuck inside with nothing but my mother-approved activities to keep me busy.

When my punishment is over, I spend most of my time in the gardens. Joffrey, Mother, and Father never come here and there's plenty of places to hide from my guards. I sink further behind a bush of roses as the armored men scramble on the other side in search of me. I will surely be in trouble, once for hiding and another time for getting so dirty, but that doesn't stop me. If anything, it has me curling my fingers in the dirt just to get messier.

Just as I release a sigh, enjoying the sound of grown men helplessly searching for a little girl, I let out a squeal of surprise as hands come beneath my arms. I'm lifted over the roses and placed back on the path, forced to crane my neck up and stare at the scarred face of the Hound. He scowls down at me grimly as I huff in frustration, though, I am not surprised it's him. He's usually the only one who can find me.

"Hello, Sandor," I greet, my irritation going greatly unnoticed.

"Your Grace," he bows slightly. "Your parents are looking for you."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Come," he orders, pointing in the direction of the castle.

"Can't you pretend to not have found me?" I beg.

"No."

"You use to be more fun," I grumble.

"As did you, Princess," I hear him mutter, though, I'm not sure I am meant to.

Stomping rather unladylike towards the castle, I abandon my safe haven in the gardens and go to court where my parents wait for me. Joined by Lord Arryn, my father's hand, and the kingsguard, of course, Father sits on his Iron Throne and Mother stands beside him. A sense of dread fills me as I make the long walk from the large, double doors to the end of the throne room. I look up at Sandor in question, but he barely spares me a glance.

When I reach the bottom of the few steps leading to the King's seat, I curtsy as I was taught and only barely catch Father's displeased sigh.

"What have you done to your gown, Ellie?" Mother questions.

"I was in the garden," I mumble as I look down at my dirt-stained dress.

"She was being a child, Cersei," Father snaps dismissively. "Ellie, we have news for you."

"What is it?" I ask suspiciously, holding my breath as I wait.

"We have decided to send you to Winterfell early instead of waiting until you come of age."

The breath I've held comes out in a swift gush as I search my parents' expressions for any sign that this is a joke. The solemn look on my mother's face tells me that it is not, though, Father looks pleased with his own decision. My eyes quickly shift to the other men in the room, Lord Arryn smiles slightly as if in encouragement while my Uncle Jaime frowns in disagreement. I return my gaze to the man who has spoken and find him watching me intently.

"B-but I can't get married yet," I argue.

"Of course, you can't," Father laughs at the notion. "You're only ten. No, you will be Lord and Lady Stark's ward until it is time for you to marry their son."

"You don't want me to live here anymore?" I question as sorrow consumes me. "Is this because I pushed Joff? He deserved it, I swear! I didn't even hurt him, he's always shoving me and I get scrapes and bruises! He didn't even get dirty!"

"You pushed your – this has nothing to do with that," he says as he waves his hand for emphasis. "If you're going to be the Lady of Winterfell someday and the Wardeness of the North, you ought to live there and meet your people. Get to know your new home."

"But this is supposed to be my home until I marry…"

"You've always wanted to leave King's Landing before, you don't anymore?"

"Not as a punishment," I mutter.

"Punishment?" Father scoffs. "This is not a punishment."

"She doesn't want to go, Robert. Why must you force her?" Mother intervenes.

"She does want to go, she just doesn't understand," the king sighs. "Leave us."

"I will not," Mother quips.

"All of you, out!" he bellows. "Now!"

Those in the throne room sort of scatter out, my mother being the only one who seems to hesitate, but another harsh look from my father and she storms after my uncle. I'm left alone with him and his disappointment in me.

"Come here, Ellie," he says after the silence envelopes us.

"Mother says –"

"Blast it! I don't care what your mother says!" He cuts me off, his face turning red again. "Come up here, girl."

Mother had told me to stop approaching the throne with so little propriety as it is not my place to sit on the Iron Throne with Father, even if he gave me permission. I can't even count how many times I've gotten in trouble for interrupting court just to speak to him. Yet, now I climb the short steps to stand before him and await my dismissal that will send me all the way north.

"Father, I don't know what I've done wrong," I tell him, desperate to fix whatever I have ruined.

"Eliana, you have done nothing wrong. Why do you assume you have?" he demands.

"Because you're sending me away."

"You've never liked it here, you've always wanted to go to Winterfell, why would it be a punishment?" he questions, only continuing when I remain silent. "This is for your own good, Ellie. I don't like what you've become."

"What do you mean, Father?"

Father leans forward so we're at eye level as he speaks, "This is no place for someone like you. Wildflowers do not blossom in gardens, Ellie. You need freedom and so long as your mother has her way, you will never be free."

…

The wheelhouse comes to a rough and final stop as we reach our destination after the long journey north. The air is far colder than I ever imagined and I pull my cloak tighter around me. Across from me, Lady Arryn coos at her son as the babe fusses. I have spent most of the trip confined to this little, makeshift cell, forced to listen to the awful woman and her inconsolable child. I begged Uncle Jon to allow me to ride my own horse, but he only let me do so on the safest parts of the King's Road.

I had been wishing the journey would end from the moment it began and I realized I would be forced into the company of Lysa and Robin Arryn, but now that is has, I want nothing more than to do it again. Knowing the Starks wait just outside of the carriage doors, the boy I've been betrothed to practically since birth standing there to meet for the first time, I find myself frozen amongst the plush pillows. My heart pounds so loudly, I'm sure everyone must hear it. I nearly choke on my own fear as the door opens and gust of cold air surrounds me.

The two handmaidens exit first followed by Lady Arryn carrying her babe. Despite looking at me, she seems painfully unaware of the panic consuming me. Even as I'm left in the empty wheelhouse, I can't force myself to move an inch. Questions of insecurity race through my mind. What if they don't like me? What if Robb Stark thinks I'm ugly? What if he hates me and doesn't wish to marry me? What if Lady Stark is as unbearable as Mother? What will I do if this is my new home and I hate it more than the last one?

"Your Grace," Uncle Jon's voice reaches me, calm and comforting. He pokes his head through the open door and smiles at me. "Come along, Princess. They're waiting."

Mother's words come to mind as Lord Arryn ducks back out of the carriage.

"Remember who you are, Eliana. You're a princess, the oldest child of the king. Never forget it."

I am a princess. I'm a proper princess.

With a deep breath, I finally force myself to move. I take hold of Uncle Jon's offered hand as he helps me down the short steps from the wheelhouse. He escorts me towards the large group of people waiting for me, all of whom bow and curtsy at the sight of me, and stops in front of the man I assume to be Lord Stark. Shivering from the chill seeping through my cloak, I look up at my father's dearest friend.

"Your Grace, this is Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North," Uncle Jon confirms my assumption as he makes the introduction. "May I present the Princess Eliana."

"It's an honor, Princess," Lord Stark says as he takes my hand from Lord Arryn's and kisses it.

"Th-the honor is mine, my lord." I tell him in shaky voice. "I thank you for – for…allowing me…"

I forget what I am supposed to say and glance nervously at Uncle Jon. He nods in encouragement and I release a shuddery breath as I return my gaze to Lord Stark. I can feel everyone watching me and embarrassment colors my cheeks. Down casting my eyes, I attempt to push the tears back as they sting the corners.

"Forgive me, my lord. I've forgotten myself," I mutter to my feet, fearing my mother may somehow sense my failure and appear out of thin air.

Soft fingers gently lift my chin and I suddenly find myself staring into the kind, blue eyes of an unfamiliar woman. Her red hair is pulled back in a long braid and her smile is soft, somehow warming me in the northern cold.

"You needn't fear, Princess. It has been a long journey for you," she assures.

"I'd shame my mother forgetting myself like this," I whisper.

"You shame no one, sweet girl."

I feel my eyes widen in surprise, but the tears that burned in them before have now dried. I take a deep breath and straighten my spine as she releases my chin, smiling down at me once more.

"Princess, this is Lady Catelyn Stark," Lord Arryn informs me and I smile in relief. I am to be her ward and I breathe easier knowing that she seems nothing like my own mother.

"Thank you for opening up your home to me, my lord, my lady. I am quite delighted to be in Winterfell," I say with new confidence. I glance at Lord Arryn who nods in approval and grin in pride.

"I present my son, your grace," Lord Stark says as a boy steps forward from beside him. "This is Robb."

I look at the boy who is just a bit taller than me. His hair is a mop of reddish-brown curls while his eyes are the same shade, if not bluer, than his mother's. He is the one I'm promised to; the one I will marry someday. My father offered my hand only a few days after my birth and he was only a year old. I have been told my entire life that I would come here and unite the House Baratheon and the House Stark as my father once tried to do. Now, it's the strangest thing, I've known he existed, but meeting him seems so unreal.

"It's nice to meet you, my princess," Robb says nervously, taking my gloved hand with warm fingers and bringing it up to kiss hesitantly. I feel my cheeks warm as his turn pink as well and I swallow the lump in my throat to reply.

"And you, my lord." I tell him with a shy smile.

I wonder if this is how it felt when Mother met Father for the first time. Did he act polite and proper like Robb Stark or was he always as crass as he is now? Did butterflies flutter in her stomach at the mere sight of him as I feel now looking into the blue eyes of my intended?

A part of me hopes that their meeting was nothing like ours because their marriage is a sham and I hope to every god in existence that mine and Robb Stark's won't be.

I hope I'll fall in love with him the way the girls do in all the stories, right before they get their happy ending.

Hello! Thank you for checking out this little story. This is my first Game of Thrones fic and I've got a lot of plans for it, but I'll only continue it if it seems people are interested in it.

So, Ellie is my original character and this is just an introduction to how she fits in with the story line. I know the king and queen may seem a bit out of character, but hopefully it's only the case when it comes to their relationship with their daughter. The next chapter will pick up with the first episode of season one and should be posted later tonight because I already wrote it.

Let me know what you all think, if it's good enough to continue and other comments or questions! I hope you enjoy!

Thanks again,
-V