Don't remove your mask.
The melee tournament is over and Eliana kneels in front of the King. Robert is a fat, drunken lout but the tournament makes him happy – the violence makes him happy. At his right sits Queen Cersei and her trio of children, amongst them the young ladies, Sansa and Arya, their father, Lord Stark, sits by Robert's left.
Don't remove your mask. Don't let them know who you are.
The voice whispers in her ear as it always does, but the whispers are frantic and soaked in fear. Eliana continues to kneel, double-ended spear laid across her knee.
"You have won the fight, faced many fucking competitors and have come out with a single scratch – ha!" Robert laughs, gulping down his wine. "Rise and tell your king what your name is, boy! And remove the scarf, so we can see your face! It's a wonder you can see at all!"
Eliana rises, sliding her spear back onto her back, waiting to feel it catch before letting go. Don't remove your mask, her uncle practically shouts, his ghost almost tangible beside her as he reaches for her arm, gripping it as tight as a phantasm can.
"My name is Eli Sand, your Majesty," Eliana calls, bowing slightly, "but I apologise for my religion disallows the removal of my headgear. I humbly seek your forgiveness on the matter."
"Oh, right," Robert looks briefly uncomfortable, before he shakes his head, laughing it off. "Well, Sand, who're your parents? Do you seek legitimisation as your prize?"
Eliana's lip twitches beneath her scarf and she shakes her head. "I do not seek legitimisation, unless it is required for the role I would ask for, as my prize."
"Role? Do you want to be a guard in my castle, boy? A White Cloak, even? A knight?" Robert wriggles his eyes. "Both the last two need you to not be a bastard and a White Cloak isn't something I'd award to just anybody."
However, Eliana shakes her head, replying confidently. "I would ask to be guard to the children of your Hand, Your Majesty – to protect them from harm and swear oaths of fealty to both you and Lord Stark."
"You what, now?" Robert blinks, raising an eyebrow before looking to Lord Stark, who has stood up at her words. "Ned, what do you think of all this?"
"Who are you?" he questions in a dark voice. "Why would you offer your services for my children?"
"I think it fitting," Eliana replies. "I would offer the details as to why, but frankly, I believe the matters best left to sleep. If you would have me, I would swear by the Old Gods and my own that I would keep your daughters safe from harm, defend them with my life and lay it down, should the day come."
"What matters?" Lord Stark questions, before King Robert cuts him off.
"Enough, Ned. Just accept the new bodyguard – your girls don't have one yet that isn't part of your home guard and the boy just proved his mettle. I thought you liked bastards," Robert finishes with a joking laugh, before holding out his goblet to his cup bearer. "More wine!"
Eliana takes the moment to look at the Stark girls, taking in their mixed expressions. Sansa looks frightened and confused, while Arya looks intrigued, leaning forwards and spying her spear, looking as if she wants to get a hold of it. I can do something with that, Eliana thinks blindly, imagining teaching the girl like she had been taught.
"I have no proof of his loyalty and he has no reputable source to confirm his good intentions," Lord Stark says, as if ending the conversation.
Eliana smiles.
"I say he is true," Edric Dayne calls, before ducking under the arena fence to walk over to her, feet squelching in the mud. The crowd rumble and King Robert nearly spits out his wine.
"Dayne! What the fuck are you doing here?"
Edric offers a short bow to the King, silent as he turns back to Eliana, embracing her momentarily.
"It's good to see you, Eli," Edric murmurs, teasing slightly. Eliana hits his arm playfully, her uncle twisting to face the King and his entourage neatly.
"Eli Sand came to Starfall when his mother passed as a boy. I have spent many a year training with him amongst my own house guard and he comes here now, a young man of fifteen, seeking to serve. I vouch for both his capabilities and his trustworthiness."
"Excellent!" Robert thumps the seat of his chair, obviously pleased. "I approve greatly of this, Dayne." He twists in his chair, craning his neck to see the Stark girls. "Say hello to your new guardsman, girls."
Eliana watches as Sansa stands, curtseying briefly with a polite, "Hello, Mister Sand" while her sister jumps to her feet, gripping the barrier in front of her tightly.
"Can I see your spear?"
"Once there is less blood on it, milady," Eliana replies, to the amusement of the King. Edric traps a hand on her shoulder and she looks to him, happy he had come.
Edric has always been a fair man, her long dead uncle, Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of Morning, murmurs beside her. His ghost is no longer a firm presence at her side, but Eliana can feel the sad happiness that he emits at the sight of his young brother, the Lord of House Dayne.
They depart quickly, after that and during the break between the melee and joust, Eliana finds herself standing in a tent with Lord Stark himself.
Up close, he is intimidating and dour, but Eliana forces herself not to be afraid of him. Her mother had once told stories of his kindness and of his deep love – of his fierce sense of duty and honour. He stands in front of her, tense and mistrusting, which she can hardly blame him for. But he is not of the South and King Robert accepted my request easily, she thinks, and that will make him nervous.
Southern norms differ from Northern norms greatly – Eliana should know, seeing as she spent eight years of her life there before retreating to the South, to her mother's family. You were my liege lord, once, Eddard Stark, she thinks, wanting to speak of things but knowing in her heart that no, she should not tell him. All that would await us would be suffering and confusion.
"Tell me of your life," Lord Stark demands, gesturing for her to sit down on a stool. Eliana does graciously, thankful for the lack of back, so she wouldn't have to remove her spear. "Who are your parents?"
"My father was Arthur Dayne, milord," Eliana speaks her third lie of the day – the first being that her name is Eli and the second, that her religion disallows her headscarf from being removed. I follow the Old Gods. Headscarves are just common sense when it comes to hiding your identity, especially when you want to seem or even have lived near the deserts and dust-plains for years.
Predictably, her answer makes an expression of horror twist into existence on Lord Stark's face.
"I do not blame you for what you did," she is quick to continue. "I was a baby, at the time. My mother kept me hidden and we mourned him, but she knew his duty and so I learnt it too, when I was old enough."
"You knew his final mission?" Lord Stark questions.
Eliana tilts her head. "Perhaps. My mother was acquainted with the Princess Elia – she was one of her ladies in waiting, when she still lived, unmarried, in Dorne. They remained friends and exchanged letters, in their own childhood code. I know that my father was protecting the Lady Lyanna. Only as an older person, have I begun to have legitimate suspicions as to why Prince Rhaegar's supposed captive would have a Whitecloak Guard."
"Enough," Lord Stark stops her, face haggard. "I have been informed that it is not safe to speak of such things here."
Well played, Eliana, Arthur whispers. You have his attention – but do not go for the kill, here. Convince him your loyalty will not falter.
"I love my father, even in death," Eliana states. "He was protecting your sister and I would do the same for your children. You yourself must know that when I say I'd give my life for them, I speak truth. My father did."
"Quiet," he mutters, leaning back in his chair. "Why not ask Robert for your legitimacy? Why not become Eli Dayne?"
Eliana itches to speak, to say perhaps, the same reason you do not claim Jon Snow as your own – but she does not, only waiting for Lord Stark to continue, as if the questions were rhetorical.
Eventually, he sighs and Eliana watches him as he nods, agreeing to her service – all the while, unaware that she is his daughter from Ashara Dayne. She comes to kneel in front of him, swearing a warriors vow of fealty that he accepts, offering her his hand to pull her to her feet.
"You shall meet my daughters, properly," he says as she regains her footing. Eliana lets him lead her out of the tent, returning to the gaggle of Royals where the children are sequestered. On his approach, Arya rushes over, letting herself be picked up as he calls Sansa to him.
"Will Eli really be our guard, father?" Arya questions eagerly, looking over his shoulder at her.
"Aye, he will protect you with his life," Lord Stark nods, looking to Sansa. "Sansa, as you are usually with the Prince's Hound and Ser Blackett, I would assign Eli primarily to Arya. Would this be an acceptable measure?"
"Arya's always running off," Sansa states, glancing back at Prince Joffrey, "and the Prince is dashing and handsome. He would protect me."
Eliana can't help the wince at her sister's words, but doesn't try containing herself otherwise, knowing barely anything of her face can be seen because of her scarf.
"I don't always run off," Arya defends, looking to Eliana, "I don't!"
"So long as you let me run at your tail, I shall not mind, milady," Eliana replies. Arya looks even more impressed at her words than she had her spear. "It is my duty to protect you – not mind you as if you were but a babe. I am no nanny, nor a Septa or wet-nurse."
"I like him," Arya immediately says to her father, who looks at her in slight amusement, dour expression lifting a little. He looks tender – like he loves his daughter very much. To her own surprise, Eliana feels a sharp ache in her chest, suddenly sick for want to be looked at like that again.
I miss Mother, she thinks.
"I can see why. I'll brief him on what you are and aren't allowed to do, though – perhaps he can convince you to abide by some of those rules, at the very least."
Arya huffs, before Lord Stark puts her down again. Eliana bows shortly to the young girl, getting a messy curtsey back. Then, she turns to Sansa, doing the same, but adding a caveat.
"If you ever need me, just call my name."
"But what if you are far?" Sansa frowns.
"I shall hear you," Eliana promises, thinking of her old hunting dogs in the North, all sold but one, when her mother died – how she could slump in her bed with Ashara and ride alongside them in the night, when their guards went hunting for game. "I have a companion," she adds, this is the important part.
Eliana wonders if she'll be able to do this, looking between Sansa and Lord Stark as their expressions shift.
"I heard along the road that your direwolf companion was lost – I would offer my own hound, beautiful and tame that she is. She will only attack on command from me and none else."
"What kind of dog is both tame yet an attack dog?" Lord Stark questions, with no disapproval in his voice.
"I do not want a dog that could attack," Sansa quickly says, looking frightened.
"Dusk would not attack," Eliana states firmly. "If you truly do not want her as a companion, then she will not be. It is not my place to force her on you – but I would like you to consider it, for she shall be at my heels otherwise and I am to defend the both of you. Arya cannot play all day and neither can you commandeer Prince Joffrey's attentions."
"Yes," Lord Stark agrees. "It is heart-warming to see you taking these duties seriously, Eli."
"I would not do anything less," Eliana says.
Lord Stark nods shortly, before looking to Sansa. "You will keep this hound with you and if the Prince complains, he may bring it up with me, personally."
"But, Father-" Sansa starts, before he cuts her off.
"You will have this dog by your side. It, at least, will probably have more discipline than Joffrey's dog," Lord Stark sneers slightly and Eliana's eyes light up at the remark, knowing that the infamous Hound is Prince Joffrey's bodyguard.
I wonder how long it's going to be before Kings Landing kills him, Arthur then says from beside her, drawing all the mirth from her. Your father is too good and noble a man, Eliana.
Don't say that, she thinks to him, before Arya catches her attention.
"Can I see your spear, now?"
"It's still covered in blood, wolf-pup," Eliana replies quietly. "Unless you wish to watch me clean it or see me kill kidnappers and assassins, I will not be removing it from my back."
"What about your dog?" Arya questions.
"Dusk is a short ways from here." Eliana looks to Lord Stark. "May I pack and collect my belongings, before accepting true charge of your daughters, sire?"
"You may. If you have a horse waiting, ask a squire to stable it with my men's horses."
"Thank-you, sire," Eliana nods her head respectfully to he and his daughters before departing, unable to keep the grin from breaking out on her face.
Returning to where she tied up her horse and hound on the edge of the camp grounds, Eliana barely glances at Edric when she sees him leaning against the tree that her animals are tied to.
"What is your story?"
"Arthur Dayne is my father," Eliana replies as she unties Dusk's chain from her neck, coiling it on Palo's saddle. Calling her dog to heel, she takes Palo by the reigns, guiding him through the camp, Edric by her side.
"Why not me?" Edric questions.
"Because you would have been twelve when I was born," Eliana eyes him for a moment. "You really wanted that kind of odd stain on your reputation?"
"Well…no, but I am your uncle, you are family and I love you. You said you were going to Winterfell, not here."
"Lord Stark is here. His daughters are my charges, now, it's done." Eliana finds a desert knight with two squires, recognising his shield to hold the banner of House Ladybright, Dorne. "Ho, ser knight."
The Ladybright man looks over. "Sand," he nods.
"I was wondering if I might borrow a squire, for my horse needs stabling with Lord Stark's party," Eliana requests.
Graciously, the knight offers his squire Vil, who promises to have Eliana's belongings moved to appropriate quarters. Once Palo is handed off, Eliana continues her walk with Edric, taking it slow so that they might have longer to talk, even as knights, squires and horses push past to get to the arena for the jousts.
"Are you going to tell him?"
"Not unless it becomes necessary. If I am physically revealed or suchlike…" Eliana trails off, wondering if she could ever reveal herself. Maybe years from now, maybe when I have been in service for so long that Arya has married. Would the Starks welcome me? Would they send me away?
"Eliana," Edric murmurs as they approach the wooden stands, stopping them. "I fear for you. I fear they will break your heart and that Kings Landing shall swallow you whole."
"I will not be broken nor drowned," Eliana nods at him in goodbye. "It's too late to do anything now. I wish you farewell, Uncle."
"And I you, Eli. Serve Lord Stark well," he says, before swiftly turning away and retreating into the throng of people. Eliana watches him leave and when he is finally out of her sight, she joins the Hound in the stands behind her charges, Dusk at her feet.
Good luck, Eliana, Arthur whispers, before disappearing.