Author's Note: Hey y'all! Not much to say other than enjoy the chapter. This may be the last one for a minute as the new House of the Dragon episode airs tomorrow. And from there I'll be working on catching up my chapters of my other story The Dragon & The Rose. So likely, you won't hear from me again on this story until wednesday... maybe thursday? Depends on how quickly I write and how much time I have. So until then, enjoy this chapter, happy reading~ -J❤️
THE THRONE OF ICE - CHAPTER FIVE: "CHANGING TIDES"
Today was the Hand of the King's Tournament, a grand celebration to welcome Lord Stark by the entire court. Elyanna had never attended a jousting tournament before, her father didn't have them very often in the North, and when he did, the girls certainly never attended. Even if she had been permitted to go she knew she didn't want to, she had no wish to watch careless violence for fun. It didn't interest in her the slightest.
But alas her and her sisters had no choice in today's attendence of the jousting tournament, they were all expected to be there with their father in his support. If they weren't, it wouldn't have looked good to the rest of the court and public's harsh eye. So she sat twiddling her thumbs next to Sansa, who kept looking behind her at the Royal viewing seats to look at Joffrey. Elyanna wished her sister wouldn't be so invested in his attention, she knew it would only continue to hurt Sansa's fragile heart. The three girls and their Septa waited as the tournament was about to begin, looking for their father who had yet to appear.
As Elyanna's eyes traveled through the stands of people, she saw a stranger look directly in her eyes, as if he knew her. She felt unsettled by this, turning away to avoid him, but saw from the corner of her eye that he was walking up to her. Once he stopped and stood next to her, she looked up at him, trying for the life of her to figure out who he was.
"I'm sorry for staring, Lady Stark, but you look just like your Aunt. I thought I was seeing a ghost," the man said, a small smile on his lips. He seemed glad at the fact that she looked like her aunt, but why she didn't know.
"I'm sorry, do I..." she turned to her Septa, looking for help.
"Elyanna, this is Lord Petyr Baelish, he-"
"I'm a family friend," he interrupted the Septa, sitting next to her, "I've known your mother a long, long time."
"Yes, I've heard the stories," Elyanna said, forcing a polite smile.
"I've heard stories about you too," he said, his voice growing softer. He leaned in closer to her, putting her on edge. "Whispers of a girl wandering the gardens with visions."
Elyanna turned her head more sharply to him, unable to believe what she was hearing, "What do you know of that?"
"I have eyes and ears everywhere, My Lady," he smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "You might be glad for it."
"How so?" she asked, feeling her heart quicken its pace with nerves.
"I saw your mother," he whispered, "Here in King's Landing, no less. She came with a very interesting story about a crippled boy and daughter who dreams."
"She told you?" Elyanna asked, looking around her to make sure no one else was listening.
"Oh yes," Lord Baelish nodded, a look of delilght on his face. "And I know your dear father hasn't told you what she said. Find me after the tournament and I can tell you."
"Where?" she asked immediately, her curiosity and need to know overpowering the warning she felt in her bones.
Lord Baelish stood, straightening his overcoat with a smile, "It's a lovely day to watch the ships, My Lady. Almost too lovely to be here instead."
"Indeed," she said quietly, nodding once. "It was a pleasure to finally meet you in person."
"The pleasure was all mine."
With that, he left her, walking across the stands to find a seat next to someone else he could spread whispers to. The crowd started cheering, the tournament about to begin, but she kept her eyes on him. Back in Winterfell, every conversation she had was light-hearted and genuine. But here everyone kept proving to her that they couldn't be trusted. Everyone was playing a game inside their head, calculating their next move. She didn't want to be a pawn in anyone's game, in fact, she refused. But in order to avoid being that, she knew that she too would have to start playing the game as well.
"Who's that?" Sansa asked, looking as a beast of a man rode in on his horse.
"I don't know," Elyanna muttered, clapping as she kept her eye on Lord Baelish.
Feeling her heavy stare from behind, he turned around, seeing her face filled with mistrusting and wariness about him. He looked down, the small hint of sly smile on his lips growing wider, then looked back to the games. Elyanna finally peeled her eyes from him, then looked to the tournament as well.
"In the first match of today's events, Ser Hugh of the Vale will be going against Ser Gregor Clegane!" the court's page announced, to which the crowds sitting around watching cheered loudly. Elyanna clapped politely as the men rod to the opposite ends of the barricade, preparing themselves for the fight.
The cheering died down as they stood at either end on their horses, then resumed viciously as they charged forward. Trumpets blared as they rode fast, thrusting their lances at each other. Elyanna felt her heart tighten in her chest as she watched, and her hands gripped themselves so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Ser Gregor shoved the lance forward at the last second as they rode past each other, skewering Ser Hugh in the neck. Elyanna felt herself jump in her seat at the sight, unable to help but gasp and throw her hand over her mouth.
Ser Hugh was knocked back off his horse, pressing the splintered wood even further through his throat. Elyanna watched with horror as blood spewed from his neck, then shot up out of his mouth as he sputtered for air. Only a moment after the man stopped moving, dead in the dirt before her. She lowered her hand from mouth and put it on top of Sansa's who seemed equally unnerved and scarred by the event as his body was carried off. Elyanna turned to look across Sansa at Arya and check on her, but she should have expected to see that she was intrigued than afraid.
Then, Elyanna saw her father walk through the stands, moving towards her to sit down. He immediately sensed his two elder daughter's concern, "It's alright girls, not every match ends this way."
Elyanna nodded in response, looking at her father. He may have been comforting them, but she could also see that he was concerned, and it wasn't about the match. She thought about Lord Baelish's words, how he knew her father hadn't told her what happened. She wondered if the tiredness in his eyes was from that.
"Can I go practice with the dancing master?" Arya asked, leaning across the row of her family to look at their father. Elyanna wondered if she wanted to go practice what she had just seen before her. He gave a short nod, to which she lept from her seat and ran back towards the castle with the Septa following tiredly behind.
Elyanna turned her eyes back to the arena, seeing a man with gorgeous silver armor ride in on a white steed. He looked positively clean, too clean for a tourney knight.
"The Knight of the Flowers," Sansa whispered, leaning towards her sister with a giddy smile on her face. Elyanna could see that Sansa's eyes were following the rose that Ser Loras Tyrell was carrying, but when he stopped in front of the two girls he turned to Elyanna. He handed it to her silently with a small smile on his face.
"Thank you, Ser Loras," Elyanna responded, forcing a smile in return. She could feel Sansa's eyes turn to her with scorn and jealousy, but Elyanna too wished that he had given the rose to her sister. This was only the beginning of it all, she knew that with her presence at court now known by everyone she would be receiving small favors for her hand in marriage. Everyone knew that the eldest Stark girl needed to be married before Sansa wed the Prince.
Her eyes followed the Knight of Highgarden as he rode towards the King and bowed gracefully, then rode off to face Ser Gregor. After seeing the first glittering opponent so gruesomely killed by The Mountain, Elyanna feared watching the match ahead of her. She wasn't scared for Ser Loras because she felt the same girly flirtation that Sansa did, but because she didn't like seeing life so wrecklessly spilled for no reason. This time, she felt Lord Baelish's eyes on her. She turned to look at him, but as soon as she did he turned around and announced "100 gold dragons on the mountian."
From behind him, the King's younger brother Renly Baratheon spoke, "I'll take that bet."
"What will I buy with 100 gold dragons?" Lord Baelish sighed, smiling as his eyes flitted to Elyanna.
"You could buy a friend," Renly responded, looking amused as he placed all his bets on the Knight of the Flowers.
Elyanna's attention was pulled away as Sansa gripped her arm tightly, but her sister's worried words were for their father, "He's going to die!"
"Ser Loras rides well, love," Eddard said, but Elyanna could see that he too was nervous about it. Ser Gregor was a monster in a human's body, his strength not so easily opposed.
They all turned silently to the match, listening to the trumpets' fanfare. The black horse rode towards the white one, both of them moving like chess pieces across the board for an attack. Elyanna gripped Sansa's hand tighter, the both of them holding onto each other as they watched. But it was not as they expected, Clegane's horse became spooked, falling into the wooden barrier and knocking both it and her rider down. While the whole audience gasped, Renly stood laughing and clapping with joy as Ser Gregor stood from being unseated.
"Such a shame, Littelfinger," Renly boasted loudly, "It would have been so nice for you to have a friend."
Elyanna watched, expecting Baelish to be upset, but he looked back at the King's younger brother with a small smile and an extended arm towards Loras. "Tell me, Lord Renly, when will you be having yours?"
Elyanna might be naive in a lot of ways, and sensitive of heart, but she wasn't stupid. She knew what Littlefinger meant when he said that, everyone did. Even when conversations were being had in good fun around her, she could see that each word was veiled in meaning. It wasn't just the Lannisters, it was everyone. After her conversation with Jaime after watching the ships the night before, and after her conversation with Littlefinger, she braced herself. She needed to be prepared to conceal her motives just like everyone else. The only thing was, she didn't know what her motives were, not yet. But she could easily see in her short time at court that everyone had one, and if she didn't, she would be a vulnerable target.
Her mind was quickly pulled from these thoughts as she heard a roar before her. Her eyes flitted to Ser Gregor only to see him swinging his massive iron sword at his horse, cutting the head clean off its body. She gasped a little and covered her eyes, the image of Lady flashing in her head. She hadn't been there to see the execution of Sansa's direwolf, but the image still haunted her mind. When she mustered the courage to open her eyes she saw The Mountain standing over Ser Loras, who was now on the ground and holding his shield up frightfully as the man swung at him. Sandor Clegane, the man's brother rushed forward, withdrawing his sword as he grunted, "Leave him be-"
The two brothers started to fight each other, capturing everyone in the audience's attention. Elyanna had never seen two people who were supposedly family fight each other with this much anger, this much hatred for the other in their eyes. Before it could go any further, Elyanna heard Robert bellow: "Stop this madness in the name of your King!"
She turned around to see him standing with an enraged face, then looked back at Sandor who immediately knelt before him. Ser Gregor threw his sword to the ground angrily, then stormed away.
"Let him go!" the King shouted, sitting down with a huff.
Sandor stood slowly, and Elyanna watched as Ser Loras approached him gratefuly, "I owe you my life, Ser."
"I'm no Ser," Sandor responded, his voice raspy.
But Loras paid him no mind, grabbing his hand and holding it up in the air in victory. The crowd cheered, but Elyanna didn't. She only looked at The Hound, trying to figure him out. He didn't look like he wanted any recognition whatsoever for what he did, which was strange to Elyanna. His eyes were lifeless as people clapped for him; he looked more sad than anyone she had come across in King's Landing. She couldn't help but wonder to herself what his motives might be at court, what he might be looking to gain. But she came up with nothing. Everyone else she looked at seemed to be scheming, except for him.
Elyanna walked slowly towards the stone bench she liked to sit on and watch ships, looking around her for Lord Baelish. He had told her to meet him here to talk but he was nowhere in sight. Pinching her lips a little, she sat, not liking feeling like an exposed target in the open. She had only been there for a few minutes, playing the events of the tournament over in mind before a little girl no older than Arya approached her.
The child was dirty, wearing a dust covered and tattered dress over her frighteningly skinny body. Elyanna felt shocked to see this, shocked to see such apparent poverty so close to her.
"Come with me, Lady Stark," the girl said quickly, her resolve stronger than Elyanna was expecting. Elyanna stood slowly, looking around her as she began to follow the girl. Her feet moved quickly down the narrow stairs towards the shipyard, her hand grazing the jagged rock walls to keep balance and keep up. She looked down at each step, trying not to fall, but when she looked up at the bottom of the stairs the little girl was nowhere to be found. Shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, Elyanna scanned the docks for her, only to find Lord Baelish approaching.
"You're lucky it was my spy that led you here, Lady Stark," Lord Baelish said, his voice relishing in her being there. "Who knows what kind of dangeorus trap you could have so easily been led into if it was someone else's little bird."
"You told me you would meet me there, I assumed-"
"Don't assume anything, My Lady," he said softly, "Not here. Not in King's Landing."
"Then why did you send her to me and not come yourself?" she asked, trying to catch her breath.
"I wanted you to come down here where we are less easily seen, and I also wanted to see how what you would do. Consider this a lesson."
"Duly noted, My Lord." Elyanna nodded, but she wasn't in the mood for how the people here played dangerous games. She wanted to hear about what her mother said. "You told me you had information, the news my mother brought."
"Yes, straight to business," he said approvingly. "I'm afraid your mother didn't bring good news with her to King's Landing."
"I didn't expect it to be, Lord Baelish," she said coolly, "Otherwise you would have told me at the tournament, or you wouldn't have even approached me at all. So what is it?"
"Smart girl." He smiled, collecting his thoughts. "While you were on the king's road, on your way to the Red Keep, your mother was attacked. Or rather, your crippled brother was."
"Are they alright?" she asked quickly, feeling sick to her stomach.
"She and the direwolf fought him off, not leaving either of them without scars of course, but yes, they're alright. Your mother thinks that this attack was to finish what had been started, to kill your brother properly this time...but the assassin was carrying a valyrian steel blade... a rare and beautiful weapon. Not one that a common cut-throat might carry."
She listened silently, waiting for him to say more. But she didn't need to, she already knew in her heart what this meant.
"Your mother told me about what the Old Gods said to you, that what happened to Bran wasn't an accident," he continued, looking at her with a glint in his eyes. "And while I only believe in what I can see and make for myself, not any gods, I must say it intrigued me. For you were right. The blade belongs to Lord Tyrion, the Queen's own imp brother. So it seems, it's the Lannisters who want your brother dead."
"And how do you know it's Lord Tyrion's blade?" she asked, trying to conceal the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
"It used to be mine, he won it from me in a bet many years ago," Lord Baelish said. Elyanna narrowed her eyes at the man, Jaime's words ringing in her ears. Don't trust anyone, they're all vultures circling around and looking for weakness, waiting to attack innocent young things like you. So what would Lord Baelish's reason for telling her this be? Why would he want her to know this? He certainly went out of his way to make sure that she knew, so there had to be an ulterior motive behind it.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked slowly, failing at hiding her apprehension about him.
"If what you said at the tournament is true, that you've heard stories about me from your parents, you must know that I loved your mother once," he said smoothly, looking out at the ships. "And even though she didn't love me the same way, I still care for her. I care for her family, her daughters."
She felt a cold chill run down her spine as he said this, the sincerity in his voice not convincing her. "I see."
"When I heard that your father hadn't told you what he knew, I thought I should. Perhaps you can speak to him-"
"Me and my father's relationship, and what is said within it, is entirely our business, Lord Baelish. I appreciate your concern, but you'd do well to leave it to us to handle alone. It's a family matter, after all," she said sharply, giving him a fake smile. His own seemed to grow across his cheeks as she said this, his eyes estimating the obvious new player in the game.
"Of course," he said softly, licking his lips once. "And now that you know, I shall leave you to your ships. I do know how you love to watch them set sail."
She kept her smile on and nodded, watching as he turned to leave up the winding stairs in the cliffside. In her short time in the capital, she found herself getting better and better at reading people. She felt as though she could sniff out those who shouldn't be trusted, and while she was sure that no one was to be fully reliable, she knew in her heart that this man would be one of the more dangerous players in the game of thrones.
The Next Week
Elyanna had contemplated what Littlefinger told her all week, trying to come up with a way to bring it up to her father. The problem was, he already knew. How was she supposed to tell him that she knew too? That it was Lord Baelish that whispered this news to her in secret? Even if she could find an answer to that, even if she could muster the courage to talk with him about it, what were they to do?
To her, the knife was concrete evidence of their hand in hurting her brother, but she knew it wouldn't be enough to go against the Queen and her family. This information had the capacity to bring war between the two houses, and they were in their territory right now. What could they do from King's Landing with only fifty of her father's men to take down the Lannisters for what they did?
Elyanna spent most of her week in bed, claiming to feel ill. But rather, she was trying to sleep, trying to dream. She silently begged for the Gods to give her another vision, something else that could help her with what to do. But there was nothing. Every time she closed her eyes she was too nervous to fall into sleep, she was trying too hard. The last two dreams had come when she wasn't expecting them, not when she asked for them. And even when she could fall asleep from mental exhaustion, her sleep was dreamless, like floating in the dark.
As she laid in bed willing herself to fall asleep, the door opened. The Septa came in to see her laying fully clothed and staring at the ceiling, a truly strange sight.
"Elyanna?" the Septa asked, walking to her bedside slowly.
"Yes, Septa?" Elyanna responded, turning her head to face the woman.
"What are you doing?" she asked nervously.
"Thinking," Elyanna said quietly, unable to muster any other explanation than just that one word. "Did you come here for something?"
"Your father wants you to pack your things, we're going back to Wintefell."
"What?" she asked quickly, snapping up to a sitting position in her bed. Sansa and Arya came in behind the Septa once this was said, both of them talking over each other as they pleaded to their sister.
"I can't go- I've barely started my dancing lessons with Syrio-"
"We have to stay, Anna, I'm supposed to marry Joff-"
"Calm down, both of you," Elyanna composed, swinging her legs off the bed to stand up. "We're not going anywhere."
"Please, please, you have to talk to father," Sansa begged, tugging at Elyanna's arm aggressively to make her point.
Elyanna pulled her arm from her sister's grasp and turned to the Septa, "Where is he?"
"He's left, he didn't say where. Only that you two needed to pack, immediately-" Elyanna didn't let her finish, walking out of her room without another word. "Elyanna!"
She needed to find him, her waiting around had gone on too long. She knew in her bones that this was about the Lannisters, about her brother. But unlike him she didn't think that leaving now was a good idea at all. It was dangerous, yes, but necessary to stay and gather more information. She still didn't know why the Lannisters tried to kill her brother, and they needed to know before they could leave. They couldn't return to Winterfell without this information. But maybe he already had it, maybe this was why he wanted to leave. Either way, she needed to find him.
Her heels clicked loudly on the stone floors of the Red Keep as she looked for him, for any of his men. But there was no one, not one Northern face to be found. Where were they all?
Panic rose in her chest as her pace quickened, searching every place that she thought he might be without actually leaving the Red Keep. But she had exhausted every place she knew, which meant he had to be outside the castle. Just as she moved to go towards the exit she saw none other than Jaime Lannister walking in, sweaty and out of breath. She stopped as she saw the rest of his men follow behind him, blood staining their gold cloaks.
"What happened?" she asked, quickly approaching him. "Was my father with you, is he alright?"
"So many questions." He said, gritting his teeth. He tried to move past her but she wouldn't let him, standing strongly in his way. He sighed a little and then looked at her, "He'll be fine."
"What do you mean he will be fine? What did you do?" Elyanna asked, feeling her concern twist and grow into anger.
"I killed his men and took him prisoner, he's being taken up to the Grand Maester as we speak," Jaime said flatly, not a single look of guilt or apology in his eyes.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"He and your mother took my brother," Jaime spat, looking at her fiercely. "Tell me, Lady Stark, if I had taken yours would you have let me get away with it?"
"No, but I also know it's not as simple as that," she said sharply.
"How so?" Jaime mused.
"I know what you all did to Bran," she said quietly, her green eyes turning yellow with hatred. He seemed a bit shocked to hear her say this, his amusement shifting towards worry. "I know that you three conspired, that you all sent the assassin to kill my brother in his sleep."
Jaime's face shifted again, this time he looked at her with confusion. "We didn't have anything to do with that-"
"I don't believe you," she interrupted him, not looking for his excuses. "I know it was Tyrion's valyrian steel knife that was used to attack him, that nearly killed both him and my mother. Your brother deserves his fate, this justice. And you and your sister will get your own too for it."
She examined his face as he processed this information, expecting to see guilt rise to the surface. But only confusion remained.
"I know I told you not to trust people at court, Elyanna," he said softly, keeping anyone else from hearing. "And I know you don't trust me. You're smart not to. But believe me when I say I had no idea about the assassin, and that Tyrion isn't the kind of person to slit little boy's throats in their beds. It wasn't him."
Elyanna breathed quickly as she listened, feeling the truth in his words. She could feel herself being swayed by them, by him, despite everything she knew. "How can I believe you? Even if what you're saying is true, that you had no part in it, how can I trust it?"
"That's for you to decide," Jaime said darkly, "I can only recommend that you keep this information to yourself, away from my sister's ears. Conflict between our houses are already increasing. Don't feed the flames any further, or there won't be any turning back."
Author's Note: woof, this chapter was definitely not the most thrilling to write, but I felt like I needed to establish more characters and more connection for Elyanna at court. But we're getting really close to the fateful event of her father's murder, and from there, all hell breaks loose. Elyanna's path once will not so easily be guessed as it is right now at court. So stick around to see where it takes it her. I hope you all enjoyed, I look forward to your feedback as always, and am open to ideas on where this story will go. -J❤️