Chapter 4 – In which a doe began to spin a web
"Can you believe it? The nerve of that man, king, mad fucker, whatever," my brother Robert bellowed. "And did you see the young lion's face? Hah, the fool sure did not see it coming."
Ser Romar cleared his throat before nodding. "Ser Jaime apparently expected to participate in the Tourney, not to be sent back to the capital with the Queen. Still, there is great honour in joining the Kingsguard."
"Piss on the Kingsguard."
They didn't know I was standing right behind the curtain, listening to every word I said. Although, quite frankly, I don't believe my dear brother would have changed his words even if he knew.
"What good is there in standing by idly as that madman burns the country? And I tell you what, Ser Romar, I'm certainly not the only one thinking this way. Rumour has it the old lion has abdicated as Hand of the King and retreated to the Rock. Gods, say what you will about that grim old fucker, but at least Tywin kept the realm going. Now…"
"True. It would appear the King was quite wary of his Hand," Ser Romar agreed. "And now…"
"Now he's taken Tywin's heir and turned him into a golden doorstopper. And he's deprived me of the chance to knock that smug blonde lordling into the ground, godsdammit. Where's all the good competition now, eh?" Robert downed another cup of wine in frustration.
Ser Romar most likely disapproved of his heavy drinking, as he was more my brother Stannis' man than Robert's, but he didn't comment on it.
"There are many capable knights in the lists still, my Lord. What is one green boy compared to the finest knights of Westeros?"
Robert made a humming sound, then slammed his cup onto the table. "Damn right, you're damn right, Ser Romar! Oh, the Starks are still left, after all, and some others, too. The King will send his Silver Prince, did you hear? Could knock the superior grin out of that one's face as well. And some of the Valemen are here, too. It's been so long that I crossed blades with Ser Yohn of Runestone. Gods, these were the days, with Ned and me still in the Eerie."
"Do you plan on returning there, my Lord?"
"I might as well," Robert admitted, now sounding a little more sober. "I should have gone after my parents did not return, but I could not bring myself to leave my little pearl. My mother entrusted her to me. Do you know how much she and my father longed for a daughter?"
Ser Romar sighed in pity. "I do not, my Lord, but I can imagine how proud they would be to know of the sacrifices you made on the little lady's behalf."
"Aye. But my fostering was important to them as well. My father always said so. Guess I shall speak to Jon about it while we're here. The old man always knows best. I tell you, Ser Romar, that's a man the mad king should make his hand. Wiser than Tywin bloody Lannister, and a lot less greedy."
A few strange noises followed, which I couldn't quite decipher, before I heard steps approaching.
"Let's see if my little pearl is up already. Estelle? Come, girl, wake up, the tournament's beginning today!"
As quickly as possible I stumbled back to my bed and jumped on it. Not a second too early, for soon after, Robert burst through the heavy cloth that was our make-shift wall.
"Robbie!"
"Now there, Ellie, time to get up! You want to see all the knights of the realm, don't you? Where's her bloody handmaiden, Ser Romar? Go and fetch her, my sister will need to look her best."
I giggled. "Will you wear my favour?"
Now, Robert raised an eyebrow. "Who told you about favours?"
"Stannis did. He explained how a tourney works. And he says a great knight must always wear the colours of his favourite lady, and when he wins, he can crown her the Queen of Love and Beauty," I said in a sweet wise-guy-manner. "Will you crown me, Robbie?"
"I would love to," Robert replied smiling. "But I have to wear my Lady Lyanna's favour, see? She will be my wife, and it would be very rude to wear someone else's colours or crown someone else. Do you understand?"
My eyes grew wide. "Not even your sister? What if I ask her?"
Robert laughed heartily. "Gods, Ellie… well, if you ask her so sweetly, I'm sure she won't mind. But you must understand it will only be this once. You might be my little pearl, but Lyanna will be my wife. And with any luck, she'll give me lots of bonny children, including pearls like you."
"Alright, then I will not ask her," I concluded. "You must wear her favour. Ser Romar can fight for me, can he not?"
"I'll fight every man that dares to approach you in an unsuitable way, my lady," the elder knight, who had just entered my 'room', acknowledged.
Robert nodded. "There, now that that's settled, go and find the handmaiden."
"I've already sent for her to come," Ser Romar informed his lord.
"Good. I had better find my squire, then, and prepare. I need to crown my Lady Lyanna!" Robert laughed, then looked at me. "Bring her to the lists when she is presentable. And make sure not to leave her side unless I am with her. I didn't like the way that mad old dragon leered at her, and I don't want him anywhere near my little pearl. Understood?"
Ser Romar kept his word. I pretended not to notice that he had not promised to joust for me or partake in the melee, and he in turn did as Robert had told him: he accompanied a little girl dressed in golden robes to watch the gruesome sport that is jousting.
To this very day, I have not fully grasped the concept of tournaments. I understand the display of wealth, the possibility to form new alliances, the chances for plotting and scheming, and I also understand the thrill of watching lances break. In a world that is so bereft of entertainment, with no internet or even decent novels, people will cheer for almost anything that makes their minds wander away from their everyday life.
What I don't understand, though, is the willingness of knights to wager their lives solely for entertainment and the vague concept of "glory". What I don't understand is the willingness of the audience to see people die.
I saw someone die at Harrenhal, a young knight whose name now escapes me, but I still remember the profound impression it made on my mind. Of course I wasn't the delicate little girl I appeared to be, but a woman grown – yet, a modern woman. I had only ever seen one dead person in real life, my grandfather, and he had died peacefully in a hospital.
Seeing a lance impaling a rider in full speed is decisively different.
In truth, my first reaction was a sudden urge to vomit, and I was glad my breakfast had been rather light. So instead of making a mess of myself, I swallowed the acid boiling inside of me and jumped off my seat. Ser Romar followed me immediately, asking for my wellbeing without forcing me anywhere. He was the very epitome of a loyal, unobtrusive knight, even though I was a girl of no more than three years to him. So I just stumbled, as quickly as my little legs would allow me, away from the awful shouting and painful yells coming from the lists.
It was an odd chance that on my way between the tents, I would stumble upon a group of soldiers clad in Targaryen colours. I do not believe in fate or any kind of destiny, but I must admit, for a second I thought this was actually part of some larger plan – there, right before me, was Prince Rhaegar, trying to sneak out the campground.
"Lady Baratheon," he turned to me, visibly unhappy at having been noticed. His gaze wandered towards Ser Romar, and I feared he would kill both the knight and me to quieten us. "What are you doing here?"
I began to tremble when I saw his soldiers were all fully armoured, with their hands ready at their hilts. Now, I was left with only two options, I thought: recoil from him and hope he considered me insignificant, or attack full-on.
What can I say, my blood was Baratheon blood…
"I know what you are doing here," I said. "You're looking for the Knight of the Laughing Tree."
Rhaegar's eyes widened, and I knew I had made the right choice. The King would have been wary of the mystery knight even without my words, and I faintly remembered he had sent his own son to find the "traitor". Only the day before, I had heard rumours about how Jaime Lannister, newly appointed to the Kingsguard, had returned in disguise to show off his prowess. Everyone was talking about the mystery knight, so it made sense to assume now was the time Rhaegar went looking for the elusive shadow.
"Little Lady," Rhaegar said with a sad smile, and knelt before me. "You must be more careful of what you speak."
"And you must hurry, my prince," I gave back nonchalantly. "You must find her before anyone else does. You must."
Rhaegar blinked twice, and then frowned. "Her?" His voice was barely audible now, and I doubt even Ser Romar understood him, much less his own soldiers.
I nodded as gravely as I could, and then added: "The dragon will have three heads. I saw it."
Clearly shaken, the prince stared at me for a small eternity. Then he rose and brought on a jovial smile. "May the Gods protect you, little Lady. Ser, see to it that she is kept safe, and send my regards to her brother."
Ser Romar nodded and bowed. "As you wish, Your Grace."
Then, without any further words, Rhaegar turned around and commanded his men to follow him. I watched him go, my little heart pounding heavily in my chest. Had I done the right thing? I hated all the senseless bloodshed that was to come, but I was sure much of it was needed. I could only hope my assumptions were correct, and that Lyanna truly was the mystery knight, and that they would fall for each other over this matter. The price was high, yes, but I needed it to happen. I needed Jon.
"Such a formidable bearing for a lady so young, to stand upright when speaking to royalty," a strange voice suddenly said.
Ser Romar whirled around to push himself between me and the perpetrator, but then surprisingly stepped aside. For a moment, I was confused, but then I realized why my guardian didn't consider the person a threat.
It was Varys, the Spider. Eunuchs do not kill with blades, my brother Stannis always said. They kill with their words.
"You are the Spider," I said emphatically, trying to impress him.
His facial features betrayed no emotion. "And you are the Little Doe, and that was the Young Dragon. A world filled with animals, it seems."
"I'm glad to meet you." With my sweet little awkwardness, I curtseyed, but apparently, my charm was lost on him. "I think we should be friends, you and I."
"A graceful offer, my lady. It is hard to find true friends these days. However, a word of advice: a nobly born lady should handpick her friends, and do so very carefully."
I frowned. "I am careful."
"My little birds have told me of a certain Little Doe that dared to approach the Old Dragon, and sing her sweet song to him. It would appear to some that this was unwise. Still, it is for Lord Robert to decide upon your education, my Lady, with your parents so sadly taken from us."
"It wasn't a song. I told the King a secret!"
Varys smiled a little. "My lady, there are no secrets in this world. Not before men, not before the Gods."
"My brothers say I am a godsgift," I insisted, playing the insolent brat. "Because I dream things that have happened, and things that will happen."
"Or so it would seem," Varys agreed dutifully.
"Fine," I puffed myself up, trying to appear miffed. "You don't have to believe me, and you don't have to be my friend! But can I still ask you a question, since you know so much?"
He nodded graciously.
"What did the voice say?"
He kept up his sweetish smile.
"A voice, my lady? Which voice?"
"The voice in the flames, when the fire turned blue. When that bad man cut off your parts and threw them into the fire, it went blue, and there was a voice. I keep seeing it in my dreams, as you did, but I can never understand what it says," I said as innocently as possible.
Varys didn't move. His smile evaporated.
"If I were you, I would hate magic too. But my dreams aren't magic, and they're not bad. They could help you, you know."
He gulped, and tried to gain composure. "And just how do you think to aid me?"
"There are birds everywhere. We have many birds in Storm's End, when the wind is not too hard on them. Some of these birds can fly to the capital, I think. When I have another dream that you could like, I'll try and tell them about it."
It was a tough gamble, I knew it. Most people were too obsessed with themselves to notice how mature I sounded, how much I actually understood, but not Varys. He was a clever one, and the shock I had dealt him by knowing about his dismemberment would not last forever.
Yet, it was a risk I was willing to take.
"I shall content myself to wait, then," he agreed.
"Yes. Influence is largely a matter of patience," I said.
"Your brothers have taught you fine words, Godsgift. I shall look forward to hearing more of them in the future."
With that, he bowed, and left me where I was. My heart was ready to explode. I pretended to be not as excited as I was in truth, and stifled a yawn. Ser Romar came to my side.
"You had better not speak to men like him in the future, my lady. He's dangerous," he told me.
"He didn't harm me. He's just a spider."
He frowned. "Spiders wait in their web for prey."
I laughed at him. "Have you ever seen a doe in a spider's web?" Then, I clapped my hands, and laughed even louder. "Let's return, Ser Romar. Robbie will ride any minute now, and I must see him!"
Ser Romar nodded, but his face was clearly worried. He didn't like following my whims, that much was clear, but he had also not stopped me from interacting with Varys. He had given me my head. Robert would not have liked to know, and neither would Stannis. As we returned to the lists, I looked at my guardian, beginning to wonder whose servant he really was – my brothers', or mine?
Thanks for reading! Feel free to review. Inspiration and ideas are always appreciated!
Time acceleration postponed so I could get this chapter out. Next time, we'll start a little later, during Robert's Rebellion, and see how Estelle fares during the Siege of Storm's End.