Author's Note: I had this idea in my head for a while now. What if Elia Martell had a third child, and what if she was raised by the Starks as a ward? I know Elia was supposedly barren, but they had no way of finding out for certain back then (I think). The first few chapters might be slightly boring and uneventful, but things will quicken up and become exciting later on in the story. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I'd love to hear what you think.

A Dragon in the Ice

Elaena glanced down at the boys in the training yard. Robb, Jon and Theon were teaching Bran how to shoot. He was growing more and more frustrated at each miss.

She had never enjoyed sewing. When she was younger, Elaena would skip her sewing lessons to play with the boys. She would mess around with a wooden sword and a crossbow. She could never understand why boys were allowed to use weapons and girls weren't. Or why she had to attend sewing lessons when the boys didn't. Lady Stark was displeased when she saw Elaena fighting, and Elaena never wanted to disappoint Lady Stark. She never fought again.

Septa Mordane tutted as she inspected her stitches. Once again, they were crooked. "Elaena! This is atrocious!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry," she murmured.

She shook her head, tutted and went on to Sansa. She cooed over how brilliantly Sansa stitched. The elder Stark girl was sweet and ladylike, but Elaena had always preferred Arya. She supposed it was because, like Elaena, she was an outcast. She didn't want to conform to society's expectations of her, which made her a sore thumb.

Had it not been for her violet eyes, Elaena would have fitted in perfectly in Winterfell. Her hair was a dark brown and her skin was light. When she was younger, Elaena hid her eyes out of shame after learning of her grandfather's horrible deeds. Ned Stark, the man who had taken her as his ward, assured her that there was no shame in being a Targaryen.

Arya was staring longingly out the window. Her face lit up like a candle and her eyes snapped over to the door. Elaena wondered what had gotten into her. Arya simply smirked and winked at her, before slipping out of the room, unnoticed by Septa Mordane.

Elaena stood up and walked over to the window. Bran was lining his bow to the target, being encouraged by his brothers. Just as he was about to shoot, an arrow came from behind and hit the target. Bran, Jon and Robb turned around, startled, and checked to see who it was. Jon and Robb were soon engulfed in laughed as Bran, whose face had reddened in both anger and embarrassment, chased after the mystery archer. Elaena put two and two together and came to the conclusion that it was Arya who shot the arrow.

She laughed. Arya was wild. If only she could be as daring as the young Stark girl.

"Sansa, where has your sister gotten to?" Septa Mordane demanded. Sansa shrugged her shoulders, uninterested, and went back to her sewing. "Elaena, where's Arya?"

She suppressed a smile. "I don't know," she lied.

Lying had never been her forte. She stuttered and her face turned red. Often, she would blurt out the truth after a few moments of silence, even if the other person was accepting her lie.

Septa Mordane shook her head. "That girl... as wild as a wolf... nothing good can come of it..."

"She looks nothing like a wolf," Jeyne Poole said smugly from beside Sansa. "I believe she resembles a horse quite closely. The long face, the dark hair, that nose..."

Beth Cassel giggled. Sansa was too polite to laugh at her younger sister, although the corners of her mouth did turn upwards.

"That's not a very nice thing to say," Elaena said softly.

Jeyne shrugged. "It's true."

Elaena had never liked Jeyne Poole. Jeyne called her 'dragonspawn' numerous times behind her back, and repeatedly reminded her of her family's demise and disgrace. Elaena only had two living relatives on her father's side, but they lived across the Narrow Sea in Essos. Her uncle, Viserys, and her aunt, Daenerys, lived in Pentos. Daenerys was younger than her, which was odd, considering she was Elaena's aunt.

She asked for the Septa's pardon, which she granted after much persuasion, and left for her chambers. The halls of Winterfell were silent. The household was large, although they were well spread out. Lady Catelyn was brilliant at managing a household, Elaena hoped she would do as well when she was married. If she was married.

King Robert wouldn't be too happy if he found out that she was wed. He would fear a rival for the throne. Elaena barely escaped with her life from King's Landing. She would have been dead had it not been for Lord Stark. She did not desire a throne, and she would raise her children as dutiful bannermen of their liege lord and the king.

She became so lost in her thoughts, that she ended up bumping into Robb. "Oh!" she said in surprise. "Sorry! I didn't see you there."

Robb laughed. "It's alright," he said.

"I saw you in the yard," she told him. "You're training Bran."

He nodded. "Yes," he said. "He's improving, but he's frustrated. It doesn't help that Arya is such a natural."

Elaena laughed. "Poor Bran," she said. "Where are you off to?"

"Father's beheading a deserter of the Night's Watch," he informed her. "He wants us to come along. Jon, Theon, Bran and myself."

She knitted her eyebrows together. Bran was much too young to see a man being killed.

"Oh," was all Elaena said.

Robb smiled reassuringly. "He'll be fine," he said. "How was your lesson with Septa Mordane?"

She groaned, which made Robb chuckle. "I'm no good," she told him. "I'm terrible, in fact. But who needs to know how to sew a direwolf onto cloth anyway?"

He chuckled. "I would have thought you'd prefer to sew dragons."

Dragons were the sigil of House Targaryen. Elaena dreamt of dragons most nights. Of a large, fire-breathing beast with black scales who engulfed the world in his flames. Of a beautiful, white-scaled dragon flying through the winter skies, and of a green and bronze coloured dragon proudly guarding a castle. The dragons of her dreams were gigantic, fearsome and beautiful. But dragons had not been in this world for more than a hundred years, and that was unlikely to ever change.

"You know that wouldn't go down well with Septa Mordane," Elaena said. "The woman hates me enough already."

"She doesn't hate you," Robb insisted. She gave him a pointed look. "Fine, she might not like you, but she doesn't hate you."

Elaena could not recall a time when Septa Mordane had given her any sort of affection. Although she could be harsh with Arya at times, the septa could be kind and encouraging towards her. But Septa Mordane looked at Elaena as though she was the Mad King reincarnated. It upset her that the septa could not bring herself to treat Elaena as she treated the Stark girls. It made her feel like an outsider.

"It doesn't matter," she said, shaking her head. She no longer desired to speak of Septa Mordane and her dislike of Elaena. "I've always wondered why deserters of the Night's Watch have to be executed. They might change their minds. Aren't people allowed to change their minds?"

Robb narrowed his eyes at her, but did not press her. "They take a vow for life," he pointed out. "And many of the members of the Night's Watch are criminals. What would the world think of them if they just let deserters roam free?"

"My father should have been given the choice to take the Black," she blurted.

She rarely ever spoke of her deceased family. Her words were guarded, and she was careful to ensure that none of her statements could be considered treasonous. Even though she trusted Robb, she immediately regretted the words she had spoken.

He looked at her sympathetically and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, he should have," Robb agreed. "But he wasn't. You know that you are welcomed here, right? You are as apart of this family as any Stark."

Elaena mustered a small smile. Robb smiled back at her before going to find his father.

They both knew his words were untrue.

Arya was among the few girls that Elaena liked. She wasn't snobby or rude, and she had never insulted Elaena because of her heritage.

Elaena pulled the brush through the tangles in Arya's hair. "Ow!" she exclaimed.

"Would you prefer if I left the brushing of your hair to Septa Mordane?" Elaena asked teasingly. "She is more ruthless than I."

She shook her head fervently. When Elaena was younger, Septa Mordane would brush her hair at nights, although Lady Stark would brush her hair occasionally. The septa was not kind with her. She would pull at the knots in Elaena's hair mercilessly, and Elaena suspected that Septa Mordane actually knotted her hair on purpose.

A wolf growled quietly in the corner of the room. Elaena winced, causing Arya laughed at her. "Nymeria won't hurt you. She only hurts the people I don't like."

"Should I warn Jeyne Poole?" Elaena jested, still glancing worriedly at the direwolf. Arya grinned.

Lady Stark knocked on the door. She smiled as she walked in. "I knew I'd find the two of you here," she said. "I have news."

Arya jumped out of her seat, glad to get away from the brush for a while. Elaena placed the brush on the vanity and sat next to Arya on the bed.

Ever since she was little, Elaena had admired Lady Stark. She hoped that she would become as fine a lady as her, as beautiful and as kind. She wasn't the type of lady who clung onto words in a song, but she was courteous and dignified. Lady Stark was the Mother reborn in Elaena's eyes.

"The King is coming," she told them. "He will be here in a moon's turn."

Elaena felt her heart pounding in her chest. Robert Baratheon killed her father at the Trident, and it was a well known fact that he harboured no love for the Targaryens. What if he saw her and decided that he wanted her dead after all? What if seeing her reawakened his hatred for the Targaryens?

Her nightmares usually involved Robert Baratheon. Sometimes, she would see him burying his axe into Rhaegar Targaryen's chest, but usually her nightmares ended with him killing her. Sometimes, she was executed publicly. Sometimes, he would come for her in her sleep and smother her with a pillow. Sometimes, he would notice her in a crowd, storm over to her and then strangle her. Nobody ever moved an inch. They always wore expressions of cool acceptance.

Lady Stark rambled on to Arya about how she was to be on her best behaviour. Elaena stared at the burning candle on Arya's vanity, shaking and fearing for her life.

"Elaena," Lady Stark called, but Elaena didn't hear her. "Elaena."

Her eyes snapped over to meet Lady Stark's. "Yes?" she replied.

She gave her a pitiful smile as she stood. "Come with me," she said. "I wish to speak with you."

Elaena rose and followed Lady Stark out of Arya's room. Her mind was filled with thoughts of her demise. Would she die the same way as her father had? Or would she end up like the Mad King, with a sword in her back?

Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, would probably be coming with the royal retinue. She would be surrounded by her family's murderers. Would the Mountain be there too?

Lady Stark led her into the library. As soon as they were alone, she wrapped her arms around her in a motherly embrace. Elaena returned the hug. She was close to tears. She wanted to crumble in Lady Stark's arms. She wanted to feel sorry for herself for once.

I am the blood of the dragon, and the dragon does not break.

She had always wanted to be a wolf; a grey-eyed, brown-haired wolf. In her youth, she pretended that she was. In truth, it was quite simple. She had the hair, and the Stark children had always treated her as though she was their own, as had Lord Stark and Lady Catelyn. But then Elaena would look into a mirror and her dreams were shattered. Her violet eyes gave her away. They reminded her of her lost family, of the fact that she would always be a dragon, never a wolf.

Lady Stark pulled away from her and placed a hand on each of Elaena's cheeks. "They will not harm you," she promised. She spoke with such certainty, with the voice she would use when reprimanding her children. "I won't let them."

Elaena smiled sadly at her. "He is the king, my lady," she said. "If he wants me dead, there is nothing you can do to stop him."

"If I thought that you would come to harm by the king's hand, you would be across the Narrow Sea by now," Lady Stark assured her, with a motherly smile. "You are like one of my children, Elaena. I would sooner die than see you maimed."

Tears rushed to Elaena's eyes. She stared at the floor and blinked them away. "But I am not your child," she said quietly, her voice betraying her emotions. "I am a Targaryen. I am the granddaughter of the Mad King. What if the king believes me to be mad?"

"He will not," she stated. "You are a kind girl. You are nothing like the Mad King."

Elaena looked up and met Lady Stark's eyes. "But my house name is Targaryen. That is enough."

Lady Stark sighed. "The king will not take kindly to you, Elaena, I will not lie. He will be angry, even furious, when he sees you. You represent the house Robert Baratheon sought to annihilate. You are the daughter of the man who stole his betrothed from him." Elaena pushed back the lump in her throat and clenched her teeth together in an attempt to stop the tears in her eyes from flowing. "But you have been on this earth for sixteen years, and not once since your nameday has the king spoken of your execution. I believe you are quite safe."

Elaena prayed to all the gods, both Old and New, that Lady Stark was right.

Author's Note: So, what do you think? The next chapter contains Elaena's awkward meeting with the king, and Robert Baratheon is not known for holding his tongue!