Elia II
Perhaps a lengthy feast after such a strange ordeal had been too much to ask of the poor girl.
Lady Sansa had steadily shown her exhaustion throughout the night in different ways. She had started shifting in her chair more. Her hand had wandered frequently to her drink, what Elia had seen to be simple lemon water. Her eyes, vivid and soft, had started to glaze over as she gazed across the still full dance-floor. She had started taking longer to respond. And her jaw had started to clench as if preventing a yawn.
Now, as they left the feast, finally at the reaches of dawn, the Lady could barely walk. Of that much Elia was certain, but much as she struggled she did not reflect that at all on her face. Serene. Perfect, her face was even giving a smile as they made their way back to Elia's borrowed chambers. A small, polite smile that did not betray the fact that she was all but leaning most of her weight on Rhaegar. The way she stood was strategic to appear as if she was not exhausted, and spoke of a young woman who often had to hide her fatigue from others.
Elia would have admired it if it did not gravely concern her.
"Forgive me, your graces," said the young woman, her voice mellow, her brow furrowing for just a moment, "It seems I overestimated myself."
"Fret not, you are hardly heavy, My Lady," said her husband reassuringly.
He had caught her after all, just as Lady Sansa had exited Harenhall's great hall, with a gallant and quick maneuver as Lady Sansa had swayed alarmingly to the side away from Elia's delicate hold on her arm. When he had realized she could hardly move, he had made to scoop her up, only for the young lady to murmur quietly that they still had eyes on them, and she preferred to walk in those gazes on her own two feet. Hence why they were walking all arm and arm, half carrying the lady. Elia squeezed the arm she still held as Lady Sansa sighed.
"I have burdened you both," she insisted.
"I have pushed you. I should have let you rest… Forgive me," returned Elia.
And she was apologetic. She should have let the girl rest for more than a few hours. Taking her to the feast had been unnecessarily taxing to her. Perhaps the magic that had brought her here had tired her, sapped her of energy. What had the girl said at the feast? Magic had a price. Perhaps this was the price. Sansa looked pale, and her fatigued seemed more than simply emotional. Sansa looked at her. Blue eyes sharp.
"But it would have unsettled your people to not see their Maid of Fire."
Her return was simple. Pragmatic. And without room for Elia to argue against it. A mere statement of fact, not prime nor accusation. Elia felt her heart flutter, for a single moment as Sansa Stark looked at her without flinching. Rheagar sucked in a startled breath.
"You went to placate my people?" he inquired, carefully. His indigo eyes bright and alert.
Sansa Stark blinked, once, twice, before she looked to Elia's husband with a careful earnestness. All her emotions seemed to be careful, noted Elia.
"They were nearly killed by their former King today. They were unsettled and frightened. I assume I have become some sort of symbol in the wake of my arrival being the outcome of what should have been their deaths. You would have been remiss not to demonstrate that symbol to reassure them. You were merely doing your duty, Queen Elia, King Rheagar. My comfort is little to that, I am sure."
Rheagar face was… Pleased, but concerned, realized Elia as he looked down at the woman. His indigo eyes were intent on her, roaming the planes of her fair face with calculation. Lady Sansa took a deliberate breath and looked forward. Her face tightened, and she let out her breath in a gusty sigh.
"I know you are suspicious of me," she said, again, in that calm, pragmatic tone, "I know that I have nothing to prove who I am, where I come from. I know that it is your benevolence that has allowed me to be unharmed in the relative chaos that has occurred here in your realm. I am not blind nor foolish. I can also see that you wish for the best of your people no matter what."
"We will not harm you," Rheagar said, simply, earnestly.
Lady Sansa trembled, just a single one that shimmered through her body before she made that seeming automatic gesture stop.
As if she could not even allow herself to show that fear.
Elia took a moment to understand, that perhaps Lady Sansa saw herself as being with the enemy territory. That she saw herself at the mercy of unknown people without any reassurance. That one bath and tender hand by Elia's part would not earn her trust so swiftly. Elia thought of her back and the fact that many of those scars were years old. Sansa was young and probably had been a child when she had been beaten by the flat of a sword. And Elia was not so foolish not to notice that her gaze, more often than not, flickered to the kingsguard at their backs. That she saw their white cloaks and armor and stilled too much to be a coincidence when she caught their gaze. The girl had been beaten by armored men and was wary of them as a result.
Elia pressed herself closer and supported the girl herself along with her husband. Pressed her warmth against the fullness of their skirts, and wound her arm around her thin waist. Lady Sansa's steps flattered, for a second. Her eyes flickered to her, wide for a single moment Elia saw not the fright of a young woman who was scared, but instead the surprise of the gentleness someone was displaying to her. Elia's heart was racing as Lady Sansa's face turned as smooth as stone. Unfeeling, and without insight into what she thought truly in response to that. And just a part of her heart broke at that expression.
"I think someone has made that promise to you before," said Elia, deliberately, gently.
Lady Sansa simply blinked, lips parting for a moment before she gave a nod.
"Words are wind. And I am sorry to say, your grace, that I cannot pretend to trust you at your word, just as you do not trust my own word completely," said the girl, and she swallowed thickly.
A gamble realized Elia, The girl is taking a gamble to know who we are. This is a test. If we react harshly, she will think us cruel and close herself off completely. If we react passively, she will think us fools and either do her best to take advantage of that, or to assure herself of her safety.
"We will prove ourselves, Maiden of Fire," she replied, and smiled as the girl jumped.
Over her head, Rheagar shot Elia a look, a simply raised brow of question. Elia smiled. And Rheagar nodded deliberately. I trust you, his look said, I will follow your lead, his next smile told her.
"As you say, My Lady, words are wind. But actions are more assuring. I know that you are frightened of us, of Westeros. Yet you hold no ill-will towards our actions as rulers, even if they are to your determent," said Rheagar, gently.
"Firstly, you will rest," Elia said, as they finally arrived at their chambers.
Rheagar, she saw, was already striding confidently towards it. He would depart to separate rooms and leave her the maiden of fire to keep her close, and to give her some stability in the wake of her ordeal. She would miss her husband in the following days, but Elia had asked him for this the moment she had seen the girl's back. No one should be alone after being torn from all they knew, especially if the girl was much more fragile than she allowed herself to act. Of that Elia was certain.
"The Tourney has been called to delay until my Mother Queen Rhealle can arrive at Harnnahel for our coronation. It is also an invitation for the few lords and ladies that did not plan to participate to come and swear fealty to my kingship. You will have days of rest and comfort, my Lady. My wife will accompany you."
"She must be needed elsewhere-"
"Nothing needs her attention beyond working with Lord and Lady Whent to prepare for the coronation. It should be relatively light work and untaxing. Lord Whent has promised to be most generous."
"I promised you safety, Lady Sansa. And how else would I keep you safe but at my side? I have sensed your appreciation for beauty and sense. I suspect you will be most helpful in the endeavor. Will you help me, please?"
"At your command, your grace," returned the girl, seemingly automatically.
Elia squeezed her arm gently.
"Splendid. But first, we shall rest for today. As you heard, Lady Whent and Lord Whent will be at our disposal in the morning."
"But-"
"Tomorrow, my love, my Lady," said Rheagar, cheerfully.
He reaches forward and gives Elia a firm if a brief kiss on the lips. And looks to Lady Sansa, indigo eyes bright, before he makes a stilled gesture towards her. Lady Sansa stills, not quite a flinch, but enough for Rheagar to turn what she was sure had been a kiss to her cheek to a smooth bow.
"Rest well," he tells them, carefully.
Ashara is already there, waiting, and helps her bring Lady Sansa to the chaise before they both quickly help the poor thing strip from her borrowed finery and makeup. It is spent silently, and it is only when Lady Sansa is helped into bed that the silence is broken, as Ashara closed the door behind her. Lady Sansa turned to her, face calm and still. She was atop the bedding. Even from her place on the other side of the bed, Elia saw a faint trail of sweat going down the young woman's neck.
"I am sure you would be more comfortable-" she began, in the quiet dark of the room, only broken by the flames from the fireplace.
Elia touched her arm, carefully.
"Sansa," Elia dared to breathe her name without honorifics or pretext, "In my culture when you are in grief, it is common to seek solace in your friends. Some stay years in the home of their kin and those they find their kin. When I was a child, my mother and her friend, Lady Joanna, shared a bed for months when my father died in battle. I can remember Lady Joanna holding my mother as she sobbed... I very much wish to be your friend and perhaps give you a fraction of the comfort she received from Lady Joanna."
Blue eyes glittered. She didn't speak. Her face then twisted, and she took a shuddering breath.
"It's so hot here," whispered Sansa, and her voice broke, "I- It snows in my lands. Snows in even in the height of summer. Summer snows are so common. But here it is so hot I can barely stand it."
In those words, Elia knew she was not truly upset over the temperature. But something else. In her eyes, Elia thought she saw something give. She thinks for a moment, that small comment of how the heat was insufferable, as Sansa's way of sharing some of her pain. The only bit of her pain she could bare to share with her now when the trust between them was so new. But she was sharing it nonetheless. And that was something Elia could accept.
Elia held her arms open.
And tentatively, the Maiden of Fire came to press her head against Elia's arm, despite the heat.
AN:
So I have all the chapters I wrote ahead of time published, but several of the next chapters are half started, so I will TRY, and I mean TRY, to get ya'll a chapter every Friday. For all of my new readers, I like to mention that I am HIGHLY inconsistent when it comes to deadlines. No real excuse I can name for that, I just happen to work a very flexible job schedule that unexpectedly eat up my time at different intervals during the week and writing can sometimes be left in the dust in the wake of that. I try to write constantly, simply because it's a fave hobby of mine, but it's just not feasible for me to turn out chapters when I am not mentally up for it. For all my old readers, hi, thanks so much for keeping up with me, love you, you're the MVPs of my shenanigans.
Hopefully, see you next week!
~Best,
Moon Witch '96