Chapter 17 Eliana

To Eliana Stark, the capital was the most intriguing place she has ever been. Despite her distaste for the over-luxurized goods in the castles, she had enjoyed the ride on the chariot. With her father's permission, she and Sansa went to the market that Queen Cersei had told them about and picked up some southern-styled gowns that proper ladies would wear in the capital, under Septa Mordane and Jory's surveillance. Eli had hoped that she could go out freely without any guards, but Cersei warned them about the beggars on the abandoned street. She said that they could give them some bread if they came near, but the Queen laughed and said, "they are not as kind as you are, little wolf." They will be if you are, she thought, maybe you are too aversive for them. Eli's suspicions to the Queen have never dissipated since they arrived in the King's Landing, just as her solicitude for Winterfell and her concern for Bran have never disappeared.

The weather was very stunning that day. They had visited the memorial keeps for the past kings who had ever sat on the Iron Throne. The statues and monuments were twice the size of a northern giant. The keeps were painted in an earthy colour and the walls were full of sculptures and portraits. Some of them were quite horrendous. The history was fascinating and was narrated by an old high lord, reminded her of Maester Luwin. Eliana was accompanied Princess Myrcella, much to her delight. And to her dismay, Joffery had not showed up to accompany Sansa, who was at first disappointed. "He has much to prepare for his newly betrothed, Lady Sansa," his sister told them. I guess that history was too dull for the air-headed prince, she thought ironically.

The guards had led them to their appointed chambers with father. They were not much different form those in the north, except bigger and more summery. They had also informed them about the feast King Robert held near the Great River two days later. The girls were both excited and took a whole lot of time to pick up new gowns for the event. But much to her own despise, she was not feeling well enough to attend. "Did the butcher's boy rub on you with his plague?" Jory asked her jokingly. At the corner of her eyes, Sansa moved hesitantly away from her.

She had gone riding with Jory along the Great River a few days ago. She had collected some purple flowers and rubies for her father, who has a tough time settling down as well. In the stabler, she had met Mycha, the butcher's son. He was round-faced and freckled. He had ginger hair that was lighter than her mother and sister's. They were arguing furiously about the arts of sword dancing. "How could you know so much about sword fighting if you are a high-born lady?" he remarked.

"Princess to be exact," she smirked and answered, "since my sister is going to be married to the prince."

Mycha gave her a bow in fear and respect dramatically. Jory interjected, "watch it boy! You will be a headless man if you continues in this manners." They both had chuckled. Mycha had told her that he was sneaking out to practice swords with a friend along the northern side of the river after the royal feast. She was very delighted and intrigued to learn, so she accepted his offer behind Jory's back.

Now, she was lying on the bad, feeling worthless and gruesome. "Mycha doesn't have any plague on him, Jory." she said dryly. But you will never know, a voice in her head said. "There is nothing serious, just have to adjust to the capital's weather. That's all." she told the Queen, who had visited to visit her. "I'm glad," she replied. Eli could hear the deceitfulness in her voice that was so soft and gentle that nobody would suspect anything but admire her beauty. "I certainly hope that you could come to the feast," she said at last. Eli gave her a bow and the Queen left. She haven't told anyone her doubts to the Queen, because no one would believe and still, part of her was hoping she was wrong.

The feast was fantastic and she didn't regret dragging herself to it light-headed. The southern food was fancy, though she had little stomach for it. Many high lords and ladies were there. They had came to compliment her beautiful blue velvet dress with golden floral patterns to it that she had decided to wear. That was enough to make her happy. Plus, she had been successful at avoiding the royal families, the Lannisters and the Baratheons. Also, Joff was nowhere to be found. Septa Mordane has suddenly became a pleasant company. At the closing of the feast, she excused herself for a small headache, forgetting her sword practice with Mycha. "Go get some rest, child," said the kind and caring Septa, "the journey was tiring enough. And I will go find you sister now."

Eli gave her a curt nod and stood up to leave. She walked past some giggling maidens who was gossiping about some flower knights, which made her smirk. Then she ran into the Hound, who returned her a cold glance. A dog never smiles, she thought foolishly. Behind him, she saw a bold, fat man wearing an earthy-coloured robe with golden grassy patterns to it. The sleeves of the robe were long enough to hind his hands. The edge of his lips curled up a bit, when she approached. It was the Spider.

"Lord Varys," she greeted respectfully.

"My lady Eliana," Varys gave her a small bow, "I have heard about your unwellness, and I have genuinely hoped that you will be well soon."

"Thank you, my lord," she replied, embarrassed by her physical unadjustment, "I have hoped that everything is well with the small council and the King, too?"

Varys left out a chuckle and walked her into the Red Keep, answered, "the small council has been fighting frequently, since the death of the former hand of the King, Jon Arryn." He paused for a moment and added, "also with your father's arrival. He didn't get along well with others. There has been some disagreement on certain matters. "

Eli turned to face him in surprise and mumbled thoughtfully, "my father has been arguing with the small council. He shouldn't, I mean..." He really shouldn't, she thought, the small council was full of vicious and plotting politicians that craved for power. That could have cost her father's life. She wouldn't be surprised if Jon Arryn was actually murdered by one of them. She might need to warn her father, she thought.

"All I mean to say is," she added quickly, "sometimes silence is better than all." Varys looked at her up and down with a small smile.

"I agree, my lady," he said, "silence might be a virtue just like patience."

She nodded and was delighted that her thoughts were granted by a wise man. "But, don't worry, child," he continued, "your father was just speaking the truth, that is all."

The truth of what? She couldn't help but wondered. The truth, something familiar started ringing at her ears. Soon, she found herself at the door of her chamber. "The truth might get you killed, since everybody hated it," she shrugged and repeated what Maester Luwin had once told her, not aware that she has said it out loud. She smiled sheepishly at the sudden of realization. Varys, who looked at her in surprise, and his smile widened.

"I see rare wisdom in you, my lady," he remarked, "both darkness and light coming out of the mouth of a babe." He bid her goodbye and told her that they would talk again soon.


Eliana had gone to sleep, soon she entered her chamber. She tried to clear up her mind, not worrying about Nymeria and Sansa's whereabouts, nor her father's argument with the small council, nor the exciting little talk with Varys. She closed her eyes. Nothing but black was in front of her, but suddenly it turned into colours. Scenery, to be exact. She was certain her eyelids were tightly closed. This must be a dream, she thought.

In the dream, she felt she grew shorter, much shorter, maybe only taller than Rickon a bit. Looking around, she saw the giggling maidens she had passed by. She let out a growl and kept marching on. She saw Princess Mrycella passing by with some guards. When she saw her, Mrycella fearfully turned around and let out a scream, so the guards shooed her away. Why was she so afraid of me? Eli wondered. She also saw Lady, who was tied to a pole. She wondered why Lady was here and where Sansa was. The Lady sniffed happily at her. She continue to march out along the Great River. Suddenly, she saw her reflection in the crystal-cleared water. A direwolf, she saw. I am a wolf. Then she saw the big yellow eyes in the reflection. I'm Nymeria, I'm in her body. She jumped around and tried to catch her tail like Nymeria always did. There were so many things that I could do, she thought cheerfully. She was loving her dream.

Not too far away from her, she saw a red dot. Approaching carefully not wanting to get in any trouble, she saw Sansa and the Prince who was riding along the river. Worrying about her sister's well-being, she decided to follow them quietly. They rode past the historical Great Bridge and the bush of purple flowers Eli always loved. She waited behind the bush and heard a familiar voice. "Ha, I have won this round!" It said. It was Mycha's voice, she recognized. Then she saw her ginger-headed friend was practicing sword with his friend, the stable's boy. She saw the prince got off the horse and drew closer to her friend. "My lord," Mycha greeted fearfully.

"Who are you, boy?" Joffery asked aggressively.

"I'm your butcher's son, my lord." Mycha mumbled.

"A butcher's boy, wanting to be a knight, huh?" Joffery said mockingly. Eli stepped out of the bush, fearing what the prince was going to do to them. She saw Sansa watching them all in confusion under the tree. "Now pick up your sword," Joffery demanded, "We will see how good you two are."

Mycha and his friend stared at the royal prince reluctantly, not knowing what to do.

"Pick up the sword, I said," Joffery shouted and drew out his sword, approaching them slowly.

She saw Sansa stood there watching them in fear. She could feel her own heart beats in her chest. How could the prince do that to common folks' sons? she thought. They were not trained nor armed, and they were only using wooden swords. She stepped a little closer.

She watched as Joffery became impatient. He stepped to Mycha's motionless body and raised his sword to his cheeks. Blood came out of Mycha's cheek like a spring of water. A sudden anger she had felt in her chest was growing stronger and stronger. He was hurting Mycha, she thought, Mycha was my friend. She watched Sansa froze and shivered. She needed to help. Without thinking and overtaking by the anger, she ran up and leaped at Joffery's right hand. She bit into it as hard as she could, until he threw away the sword from Mycha. She heard Sansa's screams and Joffery's whining cries and she finally released him. She watched Mycha and his friend quickly ran away, leaving Joffery and his wounded hand with her poor sister.

She could taste the prince's blood in her mouth, so salty and bitter. It was real, she thought, it was not a dream. She could feel the blood dripping down the edge of her lips. She was in astonishment. She was horrified. She quickly turned around and ran away from them. The last thing she saw was her sister helping the prince up to his horse. She ran as fast as she could. This is not happening, she hoped. It was just a dream, she hoped.

Suddenly, Eliana woke up and gasped rapidly for air. A pair of big yellow eyes were staring at her. In front of her, was her direwolf Nymeria, with blood at the corner of her mouth.