Chapter Four: The Price.

Disclaimer: I own none of the material written by George R. R. Martin, or his publishing company, or HBO.

OOOO

Lilith stood in the warm markets of Lannisport, her green eyes locked on the menacing form of Casterly Rock. Most who saw it called the ancestral seat of House Lannister breathtaking while a few others called the Rock intimidating. She could neither admire or fear the ancestral seat of her enemies for it was not befitting the heir of Reyne and Tarbeck. Instead Lilith thought of the structure as a blight on her existence, an obstacle that would one day need to be toppled. "Not a stag more," She snapped herself from her own thoughts, turning to face the greasy-faced merchant. "I will purchase this bow for five dragons."

The man seemed to realize that his unusual customer would not budge. He nodded somewhat unhappily, handing her the bow skillfully carved from weirwood in exchange for the promised coins. Lilith nodded at the man smiling down up her newest weapon. Weirwood produced some of the finest bows known to Westeros, so with the lowered defenses across the North it was unsurprising that merchants were launching secret raids for the material. His lecherous eyes followed her form as she swept away from his stall, yet she did not pull the Father's Gift on him. He had just been bent over backwards by her ruthless trading prowess which seemed punishment enough. Besides, many men in Lannisport seemed to like watching her.

Never in Lilith's life had she been given so many offers to seek employment at a brothel. Unfortunately for the eager flesh-sellers, the captivating beauty was already employed. Over three months had passed since she agreed to train in 'magic' with Maggy the Frog. Lilith was now able to identify every plant worth finding in the Westerlands, speak minimal bits of the Asshai tongue, and produce all sorts of potions. According to the witch, she was nowhere near being ready to actually learn how one used magic. Though every time that Maggy left their shared tent to go visit her Spicer children Lilith would read through the woman's personal collection of books. Magical books.

First she read about Projection, trying to fully understand the mechanics of her journey to meet Ellyn. After gaining a full comprehension of that topic Lilith moved onto many others. Though during her sixth week in Lannisport she forced herself to fight off the bad habit. There were things in those dusty, leather bound tomes which she did not feel comfortable knowing about. Resurrection, torture, curses, and ingredients for incurable poisons that left one on the death bed for hours. Besides, it was hard to imagine that Maggy would be happy to learn of any unauthorized educational exploits.

Lilith wove through the woods of Lannisport making certain to keep herself hidden within the shadows. No one could ever be too certain what kind of dark strangers waited between the trees for an opportunity to pounce. Making sure not to allow her braided hair to catch any branches the girl stepped carefully along a somewhat hidden path. Her face brightened as she finally arrived to the clearing where Maggy's tent stood. Since becoming an occupant of the scummy environment Lilith had managed to greatly improve the tent's conditions. The floors took nearly two days to be completely mucked out. Every surface was wiped completely clean of dust and mold.

Now the tiny window flaps of Maggy's abode sat open showering Lilith's surroundings in bright light. Reveling in the cleanliness that she had brought upon the dank space the blonde set her belongings on the table. The weirwood bow resting gently against the bag of exotic herbs Maggy had bade her to gather in the market. She then sat on her rickety chair at the large table beginning the arduous process of sharpening the Father's Gift. Though such a thing was not necessary for Valyrian steel, Lilith always felt calmer running a whetstone along her weapons. Her eyes flickered up a moment later as she noticed Maggy standing bent in the entrance to the tent, staring.

"Set that silly thing aside," The witch suddenly snapped, "Then clear off the table. It is time for you to learn something useful." Wondering, with desperate hope, if Maggy intended to teach her magic Lilith did as instructed. "You are familiar with the projection I used at the Castamere Ruins, yes?" The girl nodded measuredly in an attempt to hide any unwelcome smiles from crossing her pink lips. Honestly, Lilith was more than familiar with the concept of Projections. She did not, however, have a practical understanding which seemed to be what Maggy intended to impart upon her. No more words were spoken for several minutes while the witch scurried about collecting materials for their lesson. Soon enough the formerly clear table was smattered with odd objects.

A bowl carved with strange ruins rattled next to a tightly stoppered bottle which stood firmly in place alongside a tiny dagger. Gnarled hands clawed themselves around Lilith's milky wrists. She glanced up from the table to lock gazes with Maggy who now stood next to her. During the previous three months Lilith had found herself no longer unsettled by the woman's repulsive appearance, and instead blinded to it. Maggy was a fiercely clever woman who had proved herself worthy of Lilith's loyalty at least three times over. "Before you begin," Her Essos accented voice flowed with a soothing lilt, "I must warn you. Magic is in your blood, yet it comes at the cost of a great sacrifice. From the first time you call to it, this mighty force shall lay its seed and grow as tall as a tree. Are you willing to pay the price?"

"I haven't sat here for three months to just give up," Lilith spat defiantly, she had read of the price for magic. Nothing could intimidate her. Maggy smiled, but not in a mocking or insincere manner, this was absolutely genuine. The girl could have sworn that many years later she would still be unable to forget that haunting expression. Pointing her chin towards the witch she spoke once more in a determined tone, "Tell me what to do."

Surprise pumped through Lilith's frozen body when Maggy shook her head. "I know you have been reading my books, girl," Her cackle reverberated throughout the tent, "You should be able to figure this out on your own." With a nervous nod the blonde turned away from the witch to face the objects which sat on the table. Anxious itches suddenly sprouted across her scalp prompting Lilith to tug her braid of golden hair into loose waves. Breathing deeply she used the dagger to slash the palm of her left hand deep enough that a river of blood poured forth. Clenching her teeth together she used her other hand to unstopper the bottle that Maggy had prepared.

Wincing at the stinging sensation it left across her open wound Lilith poured the concoction over her hand. Her green eyes hardly observed as the multicolored liquid sloshed messily into the bowl. She was far too busy trying to properly string together a complex chant of Asshai verbs into comprehensible sentences. Then she stopped, waiting for Maggy to tell her the name. This was a more standard Projection, for instead of showing the dead it allowed one to spy on a certain person. When no suggestions were provided to her she decided on a name of her own choosing, "Robb Stark." Then without any further pause Lilith shoved her face into the disgusting bowl as a shadow engulfed everything in the tent.

OOOO

Everything seemed muted, as though she were alive yet not really meant to exist. Lilith found herself pressed through time and space as her green eyes observed the sight she had been transported to. A handsome man sat in a chair, his face plastered with one of the most weary expressions Lilith could recall ever having seen. Putting two and two together she realized that this was the Wolf King. Across the Westerlands the name Robb Stark was greatly feared. Mothers were already starting to tell their children cautionary tales of the Northern King who could transform into a wolf. Maidens feared for their fathers, brothers, and betrothed who faced him on the battlefield. Now Lilith stood close enough to touch him.

He was not a feral man-beast, nor did any of the other rumors appear to be true. His eyes were such a riveting shade of blue that Lilith feared she might have drowned on the spot. Even though she could not feel it a gentle breeze poured in from the open window grabbing at his silky, black hair every so often. Robb Stark was certainly a prize, decided Lilith, though she was never one to judge by looks alone.

Her opportunity to properly size the young wolf up came only a short while later when a woman entered the room. She soon recognized the woman's auburn hair, blue eyes, and age as the characteristics of Lady Catelyn Stark. The redhead had most certainly been a beauty in her youth, and even at a latter age was still attractive. Lilith listened intently to the conversation between the mother and son, the former wishing to return North for Winterfell where her youngest children waited. Though when Robb instead ordered the woman to parlay with Renly Baratheon her grief was instantly evident. They bickered back and forth for a small period of time, 'But I haven't seen him since he was a child!' Then the King would say with those Tully eyes, 'Better than most of my advisors could claim.'

Overall it was somewhat tiring. Lilith soon found herself trying to make sense of the battle plans sitting before the young wolf, half-heartedly listening to them squabble. Theon Greyjoy could not be trusted, the youngest Stark girls were more important than Jaime Lannister, so on and so forth. She did learn some useful tidbits such as how Robb had been betrothed to a Frey girl as well as his plans to march westward with a portion of his forces. Soon Catelyn departed from the room leaving Robb to continue mulling over the papers with a handsome sulk on his attractive face. Deciding that nothing more could be gleaned from the Wolf King she opened her mouth wide.

A sloppy sentence in Asshai proved enough to send her vaulting from the cold suspension in space into her body. Deep breaths racketed along through Lilith's trembling body. Rivulets of the bowl's putrid liquid dripped from her face to the scratched table. A strange tiredness had settled deep inside of her body though it did not linger amongst her flesh and bone. Instead it cut deeper into her very soul. The girl could remember having felt physically exhausted, tired from sword fighting with her father in the yard, yet this was a weariness as deep as a Northern winter. Suddenly the hazy, somewhat protective bubble vanished from around her skull allowing an explosion of light and sound to strike Lilith's head violently.

She fell from the seat into an unconscious slump on the floor of Maggy's tent, golden hair splashed about the ground as her fingers curled into the dirt.

OOOO

The maesters of Oldtown believed with every ounce of their beings that magic no longer existed in Westeros. Ulric had instilled that belief in Lilith from a young age, as he drilled his knowledge into her head one link at a time. Yet the man she had always thought of as a grandfather proved, for the first time in her life, absolutely incorrect. Magic existed everywhere, so brilliantly beautiful that Lilith wondered how she had ever managed to live without it. Ever since she Projected herself for the first time almost a month earlier the girl felt the entity's constant pressure at her fingertips. Waiting to be put to use, and put it to use she did.

With every waking moment the girl found herself trapped in a hazy cloud of boundless experimentation. At least once a day she Projected herself across Westeros to spy on the most influential figureheads to be found across the nation. The Tyrells, Stannis Baratheon, Tywin Lannister, Cersei Lannister, Joffrey Baratheon, as well as the Martells of Dorne. All of them would soon become personally acquainted with her name, but Lilith refused to walk into their treacherous games uneducated. Though like any muscle Projection needed to be strong before it could be used so frequently, so the girl tried to balance herself. She would practice her swordplay, attempt different types of magic, or even take small breaks lounging on the beach in the sun.

Whenever Maggy did not have her trapped in that tent for lengthy lessons. 'You have grown wild, girl,' The witch would chastise stringently, 'Playing with a force that you do not understand.' Lilith always found herself incapable of disagreeing with that argument, for the first time in her life she felt absolutely free. Though a small, irrational part of her soul never stopped resenting Maggy for trying to impose control over her newfound gift. In the end, however, she chose to remain the little Lady that Ulric had trained her to be. So it was with the thought of the noble blood still remaining in her veins that Lilith subjected herself to one of the most frustrating tasks on earth; Levitating a stone.

"Aesiyr," She seethed with a sullen tone, "aesiyr, aesiyr, AESIYR!" The stone sitting on the table rattled for a brief moment before becoming motionless once more. Lilith groaned, allowing her head to slump down to the racked table.

"Power means nothing without control," Maggy said from across the tent, "Even an army of one-hundred thousand men would be crushed without a leader to guide the way." The girl sat up straight in the chair once more to level a green eyed glare in her instructor's direction. Maggy stared right back with a disgusted look plastered across her warty face. "I did not agree to train a weakling," The witch declared firmly, "Get this spell right or scurry back to Sarsfield." They sat there for a long time, both of them all too acutely aware of the anger that was spreading across Lilith's pretty face. Nothing infuriated the girl more than the idea of a life spent in Sarsfield, cowering like a rat while hiding her newfound self from the world.

She tossed her head back suddenly, the candles spread about the tent casting a glow across her golden skin. No sounds passed through Lilith's ears except for the rackets of her breaths rising and falling. There was none of the familiar anticipation that had been lining the girl's stomach ever since she awoke her magic a month earlier. Loose, tranquil emotions swirled amidst a furious determination to prove to Maggy that she was more than a Miller. "Aesiyr," She whispered softly, opening her green eyes to find the stone spinning wildly in the air. A smile spread across both of Lilith's pink lips at the long overdue sight.

Even Maggy's standard insult about how much time it had taken did not remove the giddy feeling from her chest. With her second spell mastered the blonde started trudging further through the ocean of magical knowledge hidden in her teacher's home. According to Maggy the books, or grimoires as she called them, were extremely valuable compendiums of magical knowledge that she stole while back in Essos. Maegi were apparently capable of wasting their entire lives away recording discoveries into a single book. Lilith shivered at the realization that there were at least fifty Maegi across the Narrow Sea who probably wanted vengeance for the theft of such remarkable tomes. Nonetheless, she continued to read through them every day in addition to Maggy's daily errands.

In the mornings she found herself expected to gather Maggy's ingredients along the markets. By the time afternoon rolled around she ended up meditating on the beaches of the Lannisport with Maggy. Overall the process was entirely frustrating, for she was proving almost incapable of falling into the 'higher plane' of spiritual balance. Then in the evenings while her tutor lay deep in sleep Lilith would sneak out of the tent to practice with her Valyrian sword, or explore the streets of Lannisport from the shadows. She always made certain to stay well away from any light during her midnight excursions, for the last thing Lilith needed was to run into the City Watch.

On the fourth month of her stay with Maggy the Frog this firmly established schedule was disrupted in an unexpected way. "You will be attending a feast with me this evening," The witch explained as soon as Lilith returned from her daily trips to the market. This of course sent the young girl into a furious pace as she tried to make herself presentable for such an event. By the time the sun was setting over Lannisport the pair were walking side by side through Lannisport. Maggy had, per usual, refused to bathe, and wore her stained robes, warty face hidden underneath a hooded cloak.

Lilith swept proudly through the streets in a gown that Ulric had purchased for her a year earlier. It was crimson with gold lacing crafted from the softest, sheerest of silks. Now that the girl was aware of her heritage she wondered whether Ulric had purposefully chosen Reyne colors. Lilith's mind instantly began to swim painfully through memories of her father, pseudo-grandfather, and Sarsfield. Thankfully they arrived to the Spicer residence soon after this mental bombardment started, wrenching her back from such sad recollections. Maggy's kin lived in a towering structure located in the center of Lannisport's wealthiest markets. Apparently the majestic structure was previously a brothel until Tywin Lannister illegalized prostitution in his port.

After nearly three years of remodelling the opulent building was transformed into a place fit to be called home by House Spicer. Neither of the two even needed to knock on the well polished front door, as a maid opened it for them. Maggy strode inside as though she owned the place tracking filthy footsteps across the formerly clean floors. Smiling sympathetically at the distressed servant Lilith followed close behind making sure to keep a tight grip on her scarlet skirts. They had only just made their way into a massive entry room when a young woman of obvious Essos descent greeted them. She was quite pretty, and undeniably pregnant. Her hand placed across her bursting belly in a protective manner until Maggy stepped forwards to grasp at the bump. "You will have son," She declared, "Of golden hair, and brown in the eyes."

The woman smiled brilliantly, leaning forwards to wrap Maggy in a tight hug despite the filth practically oozing off of her body. "Thank you, grandmother," She proclaimed with a voice as sweet as honey, "All I want is to make Gerold happy. A son will most certainly accomplish such a thing." They stepped away from each other prompting Maggy's granddaughter to look Lilith's way. "I am Anise Lannister," The woman introduced herself, "My husband, Gerold, is the second son of Tyor Lannister of Lannisport."

"This is Lilith Miller," Maggy said somewhat dismissively, "I have been training her in the studies of medicine." It was clear from the looks they exchanged that it was not acceptable to discuss magic in the Spicer household. Anise smiled somewhat tightly, as she eyed the blonde scrutinizingly, "You are quite beautiful, Lilith. More so than any of our other guests I might even dare to say." Then before she could return the compliment Anise spun around, leading them through the cavernous residence until they were standing in a modestly sized feast hall. Handsome men danced with beautiful maidens, as the musicians plucked at their instruments from the galleries. Maggy was pulled away by some Spicer relatives leaving Lilith to her own devices.

She eventually found herself standing on the edge of the room with a glass of Dornish wine clasped tightly in hand. With each sip Lilith felt light enough to float into the heaven, yet not to the extent that she was willing to dance. Many men, both chivalrous and lecherous, hounded her for a spin around the center of the feast hall until they began to notice her unwillingness to participate. She was halfway through her second glass of the sweet, red liquid when a voice easily broke the tranquil isolation. "You remind me greatly of someone," A greying-blonde woman stood in the light, her figure was quite plump. Lilith noted that they both wore gold and red, but the woman's was in a distinctly more Lannister pattern. "Almost as though you were her daughter, or granddaughter," She continued to muse with a dangerous edge to her voice.

Lilith realized for a quick second that she had never in her life more clearly resembled Ellyn Reyne. Everything from her dress up to her hairstyle seemed to have been inspired by the deceased noblewoman. "My lady, it is highly unlikely for you to remember having ever met one of birth so low mine," The girl assured soothingly, "I am certain that any resemblance is merely a coincidence." She smiled with demure submission, "Unless you have been through the villages of Sarsfield recently?" They stared each other down, Lilith's fiery-green eyes boring into the woman's slightly muted pair.

What is your name, child?" Asked the woman sharply, stepping ever closer to continue her thorough inspection of the girl's face.

"Lilith Miller, my lady," Lilith answered, her intertwined braids shaking all the way down her ramrod straight spine with each word. "May I so boldly enquire as to whom I am speaking with?" The party continued on in Lilith's peripheries at a blinding speed causing her knees to wobble from dizziness.

"Genna Lannister," A predatory smile spread across her face, "I must say it is quite so pleasant to have met a beauty such as yourself. Lilith Miller, I daresay I shall remember such a name for many years to come…" The girl felt herself trembling though every fibre of her being went into the parting curtsey she sent in Genna Lannister's direction. She stood before a Lannister, one of those very same lions that had not hesitated to strike down her bloodline. Lilith stood tall once more despite her newfound fear as she analyzed every detail in the nearby vicinity. Genna Lannister would not pose much of a physical threat, for Lilith's sword training meant she was much stronger than most other women. No less a pudgy woman accustomed to a lazy life in Casterly Rock.

No, the Lannister guards that were stealthily approaching her seemed to be a far greater concern. In that moment Lilith realized that Genna somehow recognized her for who she was the second she stepped into the Spicer's feast hall. Perhaps, the girl realized in a panicked rush, she resembled Ellyn Reyne more closely than she had previously believed. Shaking herself free from mental discord the blonde focused instead on trying to figure out how to escape from her approaching execution. Her father instructed her in fighting to the best of his ability, so even though there was no sword at her waist the girl knew that there were other, nastier methods of survival. The wine glass fell from her hand to the floor where it shattered into hundreds of little pieces.

Genna attempted to run, but her adversary was much faster. Lilith lunged for a knife sitting on the table prior to grabbing the Lannister woman by her hair. All six guards rushed forwards with their blades pointed forwards only to come to jarring halts. Tywin Lannister's sister ordered them back while the knife pressed tightly into her fat neck drawing blood. "Let me pass," Lilith roared, "Unless you want me to cut her like a pig." Unsurprisingly the men all stepped aside allowing her to slowly drag Genna's flailing body from the feast hall. Her emerald eyes scoured around for Maggy though the witch was nowhere to be found.

Right when the girl stepped into the entry hall of the Spicer residence she let loose a guttural scream. A soldier sporting the Lannister lion glared down at her, his crossbow shaking after having loosed a bolt into her shoulder. Lilith could only watch from the floor as Genna tottered away towards her guards. The entirety of House Spicer's guest list peered worriedly from the banquet room at the scene which was unfolding before them. "I WANT THAT REYNE WHORE'S HEAD!" Her former hostage wailed like a harpy. At the name Reyne the onlookers began to buzz conspiratorially with one another. An armor-clad man neared the spot where Lilith was spread across the stone floor.

Blood dripped from her wound painting the surface a ruby-red. She knew that there was only one option of escape still available to her, though it was highly undesirable. Lilith pushed herself to both feet, wobbling all the way up from the ground. Her ears picked up on the distinct sound of the crossbow-wielding soldier preparing to fire once more. "Aesiyr," She whispered willing the bolt to fire not in her direction, but towards the approaching guard instead. When her green eyes opened he was lying beneath her, blood streaming profusely from his forehead. The other guards seemed to have been jump started back into action by her display of magic. Lilith knew that her fate was sealed though she refused to go out so easily.

Picking up the fallen soldier's blade, grimacing at the pain which spread across her wounded arm, she cross stepped towards the man with the crossbow. He fell easily, still frozen in shock at the way his own weapon had turned against one of his comrades. The first guard to reach her dealt a series of devastatingly powerful blows until she exploited a weakness in his stance. His body was hardly on the floor when she turned to face the next one. Soon enough her sword was sticking out of the back of his armor. Lilith did not bother tugging the weapon back out choosing to borrow a dagger from his belt instead. Ignoring the encroaching crowd of guards into the room she locked her gaze on Genna Lannister once more.

In a mere matter of minutes the beastly woman had managed to unravel Lilith's entire life with a single suspicion. No matter what horrors the guards would no doubt inflict upon her the beauty preferred a shot at taking something precious away from the Lannisters, just like they did to the Reynes and Tarbecks. "AESIYR," She wailed in an eardrum shattering scream, throwing the dagger like one would a spear in Genna's direction. As soon as the metal sunk into her head the woman began to vomit a tidal wave of foul, bodily liquids. The shrieking chants of, 'Bury the Reyne witch,' were permanently silenced. Seconds later Lilith found herself surrounded by armed men.

The front doors of the Spicer home were thrown open soon later when the City Watch arrived to secure the premises. Noblewomen could be heard screaming in distress, Lords hurled slanderous insults at the 'Reyne sorceress', all while Lilith found herself being forcibly dragged into the streets of Lannisport. They dragged her near unconscious body to the beach in a frenzied display of rage. In rapid succession she was completely bound as a trio of men dug a pit six feet down into the beach. Despite the foggy tiredness pressing down on her head Lilith knew what they were about to do to her. If luck truly favoured her she would die without being raped by four diseased Lannister men.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as they dragged her to the pit. One of her captors pawed greedily at her body through what was left of the now tattered dress. "I am going to fuck-," He started until one of the other men pulled her from his grasp, and tossed her into the hole like a sack of potatoes. She stared up at the starlit sky as they bickered kicking clouds of blinding sand down onto her gagged face.

"Everyone knows you don't fuck witches, boy," An older man barked, "They can send a jet of flame down onto your cock!" At that the small crowd erupted into raucous laughter, almost as though they all never considered committing the same atrocity. Without much further ado the guards all set about burying her alive. Eventually Lilith sucked in a last breath when total darkness, the likes which she could not recall ever having experienced, descended like winter. She wondered frantically if this was what it felt like to die. Her last thoughts were of her father, grandfather, and a cottage that she would never again call home. Only seconds later sand began to pour throughout her lungs.

Lilith was dead.

OOOO

This chapter took me way too long to figure out. There were so many details that I had to wade through so it could end at just the right place. I promise that the plot will start to get much more exciting from this point on. Please review!

Next Chapter: The Dream.