LITTLE DRAGON

Summary: There was one more Targaryen who fled Westeros during the War of the Usurper. The older sister of Viserys and Daenerys wished nothing more than to keep her siblings safe and sound for the rest of their lives. But then the fate intervened…

Third person POV

Thoughts

Memories

In The Spider's Web

Sixteen Years Ago

She was only three years old, but even at her young age, she understood the tension and importance of this moment. She had a fair understanding of what happened to her mother before. Stillborns, the old midwives called them bluntly, as if they weren't little babies at all. As if they were never the dwindling hope of their dynasty and the breaking heart of her mother. As if they weren't her siblings and Elion shouldn't love and adore them - but she did anyway, and she knew her mother did as well. Because it never mattered that they didn't live to draw a breath - they were family and they needed to be remembered.

She prayed that entire night. She wasn't allowed in the birthing chamber where she could hear the shrill screams come from, but her mother promised her that she would be summoned the second her new sibling came into the world. Of course, Elion had always been a good child. She always behaved, doing everything her parents told her to and more. Ever since they had discovered that the Queen was pregnant, Elion had been touching her belly, talking to it and singing to it for hours. She prayed and she knew that this time, it would be different. This time, the baby would be moving and screaming. It wouldn't be cold and still, like the last one.

She knew it. She knew.

When her doorknob turned, she was already on her feet, almost vibrating with excitement. It only took one look at the midwife's smiling face for Elion herself to be filled with joy, and she ran to her mother's chambers as fast as she could.

There he was, in his cradle, all purple and squishy, but beautiful nonetheless. Her little brother. He wasn't screaming, just moaning softly, balling his tiny little hands into fists. He was alive.

Elion reached out to touch him, but a large hand slapped her sharply across her fingers. Startled, she looked up to see her father towering over her, his bleached purple eyes glaring down at her.

"Aerys…" Her mother breathed out heavily from the bed. She looked exhausted, sweat dripping down her forehead. Her features, however, were marked by a soft smile. "Let her... She knows to be gentle."

"I do," Elion nodded dutifully, putting her little hand over her heart. "I will be careful. I would never hurt him, I will protect him. Always."

„You are a child," her father snorted. „A girl. You can't protect anyone."

"Aerys..."

Her father's eyes were empty as he looked down at her, but at least he wasn't angry. He seemed calmer than Elion had ever seen before. He gave her a short nod. Elion smiled and reached out to her little brother again. Her fingers brushed across his skin tenderly, and that mere touch filled her heart with pure happiness. He was warm. He was alive. He was hers.

"What is his name?" she asked, looking at the little boy as if he was the only thing left in the world.

"Viserys," Aerys replied, his voice calm and proud.

His second son had just been born.

Present Day

She had no idea where she was, or what was happening. A terrible cold set upon her and her head was heavy, full of thick fog. It was too hard to think, but she was trying.

All she could remember was the ice.

She remembered the feeling of every part of her body freezing in time. How the cold burned like fire, or at least she thought so since the fire had never hurt her before. All she could remember was how she was paralyzed, the way she couldn't breathe and how the sensation lasted for an eternity before she died.

Except she didn't.

She was still here.

She could feel a steady hand on her arm. It was warm, but it belonged to a stranger and brushed over her numb skin. She could barely understand the current situation, but one thing was fairly obvious - she wasn't safe. There was a danger. She couldn't move, and the fear floating in her veins was colder than the ice. Her heart was thudding slowly in her chest, too tired to beat at a faster pace.

"A dragon in an ice cell. How poetic," drawled a deep voice, silky as honey.

Despite how calm and soothing it sounded, her fear escalated without explanation. Suddenly there was water upon her, lots of water. Warm and trickling down everywhere, making her skin sore with a sensation of melting.

"I do hate magic." The voice resonated again and she knew, she wasn't dreaming.

This was real. She knew this voice. It wasn't safe.

She was in danger and she needed to remember.

Something.

Everything.

Anything.

"And it seems that there are always more reasons to hate it with even more passion."

Passion.

Hatred.

Always.

And then she remembered.

Her fingers clutched the handle of the sword too tightly, so tightly that they began to hurt. Not that she cared, not when some bastard had a knife to Viserys' throat.

Elion wanted to kill that man. She wanted to hurt that man, but in the end, it was all her fault and she knew it. They shouldn't have stayed in one place for so long. They should have moved - she should have moved them. She should have never let her brother leave the safe house when he was having one of his tantrums. She should have followed him sooner. She should have… but none of it mattered anymore. Now she was here and he was there, in the arms of a much stronger man and his light purple eyes were brimming with fear.

"Let him go," she hissed, her voice full of rage.

"I don't think I will," the man answered with a hoarse voice and his thin lips stretched into a vile smile.

"Eli…" Viserys whimpered. "Eli, please…"

Her heart broke when she saw him like this. She should have protected him, she never should have let this happen…

The man's eyes flickered, and that combined with a silent warning in her brother's purple ones alerted Elion to the presence of someone behind her. The bastard wasn't alone. Cowards like him never work alone. It only took a few seconds for her and the man to become locked in a stalemate. He still had a blade to her brother's throat and she honored his partner with the same. Fortunately, it seemed that he cared for his companion as well. Maybe they were related too…

"Stand down or he will die!" the man threatened, pressing his knife down on her brother's skin. A thin red line appeared, making Viserys gasp and his eyes to water.

Elion's heart turned into a stone in that moment, and she was glad. She needed her head cool and the ability to think straight. They, whoever they were, obviously needed them alive. If not, Viserys would have been dead already. So there was still a chance.

"You cannot get us both," she told the man, her voice cold.

Of course, he already knew that… she could tell by the look on his face. His eyes scanned their surroundings in a flash. He seemed to be thinking, plotting. Perhaps he was even looking for someone, but they were very much alone.

"Let him go," Elion demanded. „And I will go with you. Let him go… and your partner lives."

After a long momentary pause, the grip around Viserys' neck sagged, apparently with the knowledge that he had no other choice.

"Viserys, run!" she urged, and he did just that without looking back.

Once he was out of sight, she slit that other man's throat without a second thought. What legitimacy could her word have when it was made to the kind of men that hunted her and her family down since they were children. Elion couldn't keep up with who she thought kept sending them - since they were so many, but she couldn't afford to play fair with those people. She couldn't afford to play fair with anyone anymore. There was only one thing that remained important to her, and that was her family. Not her own honor, not her promises - nothing else mattered. Only Viserys and Daenerys. She couldn't let herself be captured because she needed to be there to protect them.

They needed her.

But she failed them. By now, that was growing to be quite obvious. She couldn't remember what happened after the assassin's blood ran down her arm in the shadows; she could only recall trying to overpower that other man and then… nothing. Her memories were scattered all around her mind; she needed to get them straight. Her name was Elion, the firstborn daughter of Aerys, the Mad King and one of the last members of the House Targaryen. She had been on the run for twelve years. She had allowed her own recklessness to separate her from her family.

And now she was…

Where the Seven Hells was she?

She tried to open her eyes, but her lids felt too heavy to lift. All she could do was listening to the voice and whatever it was saying - slow and smooth like a lullaby, and then everything was consummated by darkness once again.

When she woke up the second time, the dense fog was back. But now it wasn't just her head; she could feel it in her mouth, she was breathing it… But this time, it was easier to overcome. Her thoughts were more clear now. Elion could feel someone touching her hair, making it wet and slick. When she finally managed to open her eyes, it seemed as if someone had been waiting for her to do so, because something was shoved right into her eyes and it burnt. She tried to move her head, to escape the pain, blink it away, but nothing was working. It hurt like Seven Hells and she was fairly certain she had just been blinded.

"I'm sorry, dear," the voice spoke up again. I know that voice, she realized, not being able to place it. "But you want to live... Don't you?"

Elion wasn't sure anymore. Her life had hardly been worth living as of late. She couldn't even remember the last time she was truly happy. Maybe that was too long time ago, when her mother was alive, when her father away somewhere and it was only her and Viserys and no one else.

After a while - or what seemed like ages to Elion - the burning in her eyes muted down to a bearable dull, and she opened them. The world around her was only a large blur, but it slowly came into focus. There was a dark figure standing over her. Just a few more seconds and she could spot a bald head and dark eyes. Her blood went cold instantly.

Varys.

She knew him.

She remembered him.

He once served her father - she recalled him posing by his side when she was little and now he was serving a new King. Robert Baratheon, the rebel Usurper, the man responsible for the death of her family.

He served the enemy. He was the enemy.

And he was too close for her liking.

Instinctively, Elion tried to hit him in the face in a hopeless effort to get away from his presence, but her hand moved too slowly and she almost fell off whatever she was laying on. Varys caught her before it could happen and pushed her on her back again.

"That wasn't very ladylike, Little Dragon…"

Elion tried to push his hands away, but she was currently in such a bad shape that she wouldn't lift a cup if asked to. She tried to speak but it felt like her mouth was full of sand.

"It's wonderful to see you again as well," Varys said in reaction to the anxious expression on her face.

"What…" Elion rasped, every word was a cut to her throat, but she didn't care. "What have you… done… to my siblings?"

Judging by the look on his face, it seemed like she had insulted the Spider.

"I've done nothing to what remains of your family, Princess. I'm afraid I can't prove that, however, since they are gone. Far away and, hopefully, safe."

Elion didn't believe him. Only a fool would believe the Master of Whispers. So there should have been no reason for the fear that harshly bit in her heart when the image of Viserys and Daenerys far away somewhere and alone crept into her thoughts.

"What do you want from me?" she muttered out in a breathy rush. It seemed like a simple question, but there was a deeper meaning to it. Perhaps the real question should have been: Why haven't you killed me already?

Varys sighed.

"So many questions and so little time..."

Almost like he was afloat, he moved away from her makeshift bed and returned to her with a chalice of water. Perhaps Elion couldn't effectively push him away and run, but she could still find the strength to turn her head away and press her lips together.

The Spider frowned softly, but he didn't look very surprised.

"You're hurting my feelings," he confessed silkily. "I wasn't the one who captured you. I was the one who found you and set you free."

Elion's look couldn't be more incredulous. If she had the strength, she would laugh in his face.

"It's a truth. You see, not only King Robert has been searching for you. Some believe there is power in the blood of Targaryen. Your captors were, I'm afraid, people of low-breed… Do you remember what they did to you?"

Elion could see glimpses in front of her eyes at the mention. She remembered people in cloaks; they put her in the box of glass but no matter how hard she was pounding on the wall - it wouldn't break. And then there was the freezing water… ice… and then nothing.

"You don't have to thank me," Varys spoke up again, cutting through her thoughts.

Elion was planning to do no such a thing. Even if what he was saying was a truth, the current situation he had her in was hardly any better - she had just moved from bad to worse. "What is it that you want with me?" she asked again, fearful that she already knew the answer.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm going to take you home."

A new wave of fear rolled over her, freezing and stabbing. She didn't have a home. Westeros wasn't home, not anymore - it couldn't be. Her heartbeat only escalated as memories full of screaming, blood, and the smell of burning flesh began to resurface.

"Now, now," Varys whispered soothingly, he had to see the horror on her face. "Calm down, child."

"Why… Why don't you just kill me right away?" Elion didn't understand. Was her execution suppose to be a show?

"I desire no such a thing. Listen…"

Her skin crawled under his touch as he placed a rigid hand on her shoulder - she desperately wished that this all was just a bad dream. For all Elion knew, it easily could be - twelve years had passed yet the Spider looked exactly the same as she remembered.

"You've been gone for a long time, my dear," Varys told her, his smooth voice almost lulling her to sleep. "As far as the rest of the world is concerned - Elion Targaryen is dead. Let's keep it that way, shall we?"

"I… I don't understand…" Elion shook her head, trying to stay awake. She had barely heard what he was saying. He eyelids were growing heavy, her eyes still burning from whatever was pushed into them.

The Spider smiled down at her.

"Of course, you don't."

"... How… long?"

"It's been almost two years…"

And then the darkness swallowed her up once again.

When Elion woke up for the third time, the fog had completely lifted. Her body was still sore but stronger than before and this time she could open her eyes without an effort. She examined her surroundings carefully; the small room she was in was empty. Varys was gone and it was so strange that it made her think if he was ever real in a first place. Now that her mind was clear, it didn't make any sense… Why would Varys travel across the Narrow sea?

She didn't have the time to ponder about it right now - she had to find a way out… a way back. Elion quickly slid off the bed, putting her bare feet on the cold stone floor and standing up, only to collapse on the floor a mere second later. It felt like she hadn't used her legs in months.

"It's been almost two years…"

No. She refused to believe that.

That large amount of time couldn't just be taken away from her. Not without her knowledge.

She couldn't have left her siblings for that long…

Viserys. Daenerys.

She needed to come back to them, wherever she was and wherever they were. Right now.

She scrambled back up to her feet, and it took her a while before she managed to get herself to the door. It was unlocked. Elion couldn't believe her luck. A smile lit up her face as she stepped out of the room, but it quickly faded when she came face to face with a seemingly never-ending hallway. She took a left turn, walking as fast as her legs could carry her.

Hello there! :) Thank you for reading my story.

I've had this idea for a long time and a few weeks ago, I finally surrendered.

Please, let me know what you think, so I know whether to continue.