DISCLAIMER - all characters from both the television series 'Game of Thrones' and the book series 'A Song of Ice and Fire' rightfully belong to George R R Martin, David Benioff and Dan Weiss.
PART I
FALLA
The Great Hall, Winterfell - 298 AC
ELIANA
...
Arya's laughter brought Eliana back to focus as she found herself suddenly looking at her youngest sister who was sitting on the ground watching a smoky pup trip over its feet as it chased after the lump of sodden wood she threw. To her left, she felt a sharp tug on her forearm and as her eyes slowly trailed in its direction, Rickon crawled into her lap and snickered when she poked at his sides, seemingly not bothered by his own pup that had settled at their feet - how odd it was for her to be seated with her siblings in Winterfell's great hall, how odd it felt to be with her family after months of travel as if she hadn't left at all.
She had missed it.
"What was Dorne like?"
Eliana looked glanced over at her younger brother, Bran, as he sat staring up at her eagerly, a hopeful look sitting on his face. On his lap his own pup had snuggled into his chest, licking the underside of Bran's chin affectionately. Her heart twinged, knowing that her sweet Bran has lost his innocence when he had gone with their brothers to watch their father do his duty as Warden of the North, a small part of her grateful that he still very much wanted to be a knight from all the tales that Old Nan had ushered them to sleep with, but he was still her little brother as he would always be. Eliana smiled softly, leaning across the table to gently ruffle Bran's walnut head of hair fondly. "Warm," she mused with a laugh, "Very warm, in fact."
Robb gave a small, teasing smile. "Come on, Lia." He was sat on the floor with Sansa sat on his lap as she prettily tied a ribbon around her pup's neck and squealed in delight before Robb's own bounded into hers. "There must be more to it than that."
Eliana looked up at Robb with a scoff, knowing that her brother wasn't as stupid as she sometimes hoped he was. She doubted she would ever disclose to any of her siblings what had happened in Dorne, let alone Highgarden. "What? Don't give me that look," she stopped and sighed, holding Robb's curious gaze with a slight smirk. "It was really warm, and we Starks don't do well in those climates."
"We don't care about the weather."
Eliana looked to Jon sharply as his hands carded through the snowy fur of his newly found direwolf runt. He wore a knowing expression concealed beneath a bemused smile as he set the pup to the ground, encouraging it to bound away in its excitement. "Something tells me you didn't either..."
...
"... Sometimes I think you let me win on purpose," Oberyn whispered, his face mere inches from hers. Her back was to the ground and his body was pressed against hers, just enough weight to keep her down but not enough to hurt her.
Her arms were spread out on the grass and her sword wasn't lying too far away. Eliana smirked, "And what would make you think that?" she murmured so quietly that her voice was barely audible. She saw him smirk back at her and felt his breathing hitch as his eyes fell to her lips. He pressed his body a little more on top of hers, watching as Eliana closed her eyes.
"This maybe..." She felt the soft pads of his fingertips trace her eyelids, "Or maybe your heart is fluttering like a bird in its cage for another reason?" She cursed him silently in her mind, her eyes fluttering open to stare at Oberyn. He laughed at her as if almost reading her mind before slowly, his smirk still pulled across his face, he bent his head down just enough to force her eyes shut again.
"Maybe it is..."
Oberyn paused for a few seconds before pressing his lips to hers. Eliana hummed against his lips, her hands snaking up to linger around his neck which only forced him to press his entire weight atop of her. She felt perfect beneath him, and he cursed himself silently; it hadn't been any intention of his to end up in such a predicament with the Northern girl. And yet, he wasn't playing as such anymore when he looked towards her lips again.
He pulled away, pushing himself up onto his arms which was enough for Eliana's eyes open to again and she frowned at him, confused. "I was wrong at Planky Town, very quick to judge and very wrong..." Oberyn murmured in a hushed voice, "To have called you a girl, Eliana Stark... I fear I still have a lot to learn about women... but most of all, Northern ones." She smiled at him, blushing slightly at his poetic confession, the lust shining in his viper-like eyes.
Eliana smiled slightly, amused that she wasn't upset by that as she may have been once upon a time. "You were entitled to your opinion," she reasoned, feeling his hands grab her waist; her heart felt like it was beating very fast in her chest and she scolded herself for being so excitable so suddenly. "Even though it was the wrong one." She grinned at him then.
"That it was."
She closed her eyes when she felt her lips skimming over the soft skin at the base of her neck, kissing his way upon her neck to bite her earlobe. Her hand floated to his face, dancing through his hair softly as she smiled at him, guiding his lips back to hers. The muscles in her lower body tightened in apprehension. Eliana moaned against his lips as his tongue found its way into her mouth, his rough hands softly caressing her back.
"Hungry viper," Eliana mocked in soft amusement with a grin as she rolled them so she was straddling him, cupping his face between her hands.
Oberyn smirked, "Hungry wolf," he intoned as she ducked her head to kiss him again, pressing down on his hips with enough pressure to make him hiss. Oberyn bit her lip and started to kiss his way back down her throat. His hands encircled her waist and she started to move her hips with little realisation, pressing her down into his own until he couldn't take it anymore. "Eliana," he murmured, feeling her lips ghost over his face as she fought to still her hips. "I want you and you know it... but I won't have you like this."
Eliana frowned then, "Like what?" she questioned, her palms falling still on his chest, tickling the whisps of dark hair. "If you're expecting me to beg for it, I'll enlighten you now Prince Oberyn... wolves do not beg." She laughed, dipping her head to bite slowly at his earlobe before nipping at the soft skin of his neck, drawing a moan from the Red Viper.
With a sigh, his hands slipped under her tunic so his calloused hands danced across her back, pulling her closer to him, "I guess we'll have to see which one of us comes begging first," Oberyn smirked against her lips.
...
Throwing a bit of meat that had been long forgotten from breakfast, Arya grinned at the pup as it ran after the meat, its tag swishing in the air as she turned back to her older sister for the few seconds of peace she could get before the ball of fluff would race back over to her. "Did you see the Dornish army and their spearmen, Lia?" Arya buzzed, her eyes sparkling as a wolfish smile appeared across her face.
Eliana opened her mouth to answer Arya when she felt a pair of hands clamp down on her shoulders, gently squeezing to pull her back into the chest of someone. "She definitely saw someone's Dornish spear." It was Theon who had spoken, his words disappearing into a loud laugh as Eliana whacked him across the head, moving the Greyjoy to a snicker as he bundled into the seat next to her, stealing a quick swig from the tankard he carried.
"Theon!" Sansa shouted, appalled by the comment that had come out of the Greyjoy's mouth like the proper lady she sought to be. "You are the worst!"
Nudging Eliana's arm playfully, Theon wagged his eyebrows in amusement as she narrowed her eyes at him. "But not wrong, eh, Lia?" he teased, his smirk growing wider as she rolled her eyes but didn't bother to deny him. The irony for Theon to see right through her more than her own siblings were able to - had this been several moons ago she may have been flushing at that moment at the sheer accusation... an accusation that had far too much truth hidden within it.
Once upon a time, Eliana would have found herself embarrassed by Theon's teasing for her supposed lack of modesty but now, her trip South had governed her the confidence to steel herself against the taunting, to merely accept it as it were with little desire to want to rise to the admonish... perhaps she could put it down to her trip providing her with the ability to have learnt so much, to have grown so much when faced with such unfamiliarity that to mature was the only option. There would have been a time she would have willingly grappled with Theon at such petty comments like the one he had made.
There was much truth in it and she had accepted that quietly despite how she may have begrudged herself for having willingly encouraged it, having agreed with herself mentally that she had grown quite welcoming of Oberyn Martell's company and that she also found his attractiveness to be something that had left her bewildered, too. She would be lying to herself more than anyone else if she insisted she hadn't desired his attention and hadn't allowed herself to become enamoured by the man.
How had her trip South turned into such a thing, where she thought it was acceptable to have done such things with a Prince of Dorne? She could only imagine her mother's reaction if she ever caught wind of what had happened... no length of shame that would then follow her and she was sure she'd never hear the end of it either. With a soft sigh, she made to grab for her pup on the floor and set it on Rickon's small lap as the black mass of fur whined before casting its juniper eyes in her direction.
"What was Sunspear like?" Bran asked with another one of his bright smiles, pulling her attention away from the direwolf pup. "Did you go to the Palestone Tower like you said you would?"
Eliana sighed at her brother's questions. Part of her still couldn't admit it to herself that she perhaps only truly sought out Dorne because of the connection with her family... the yearning to see where her aunt suffered in her last moments and how an entire country had gone to war for her, to know what mess had been left behind... it all still didn't make any sense to her; the more she heard about it, the more she was told about it, the more she thought about it... the more she asked about it. It was all so confusing. "Sunspear was beautiful," Eliana answered finally with a small smile, Oberyn's voice ringing in her ears softly. "All the stories fall so very short in comparison to seeing it in the flesh... and Starfall, Bran... you would not believe it. Towers so tall that it puts ours to shame, so high you can barely see their tops without looking into the sun."
Bran grinned at her, "Too tall for me to climb?"
Before Eliana couldn't think to answer, Arya was slamming her hands down on the table. "Boring!" she shouted, making a face at Bran before turning to her sister eagerly. "Tell us something interesting... like, did you see Dawn? The legendary blade of House Dayne!"
Sansa rolled her eyes, shoving her sister out of the way in the hopes that she would just sit back down. "Arya, shut up!" Sansa hauled her pup into her embrace and smiled sweetly, "I want to know about the Reach, Lia... all the proper ladies come from there."
"All the proper ladies come from there," Arya imitated in a sickly-sweet voice which seemed to anger Sansa immediately as the older sister turned her back on her, the young sister groaning in annoyance as she sent Sansa a glare. "I wish!"
Robb and Jon shared an amused look as Eliana looked between her sisters, seemingly dazed by who wanted their questions answered first. It was Sansa who grasped the opportunity to persist again: "Tell me about Highgarden."
Eliana opened her mouth to answer again but Arya was already shouting her reply: "No one cares about that, you pretty idiot!" She pulled out the wooden sword at her waist and began charging around the hall like she was possessed, twisting and twirling around as she fought some invisible fiend. "I want to hear about the Red Viper on Dorne, Sansa - one of the greatest fighters in all of Westeros! Not idiots in silly dresses!"
At her words, Bran also jumped up in his excitement which sent his pup also racing to the ground to join its sibling in chasing Arya around. "Lia, tell us about the Red Viper and-"
"And the Knight of the Flowers!" Sansa finished in a chirp, beaming. "I've heard he is the handsomeness knight in the Seven Kingdoms!"
Eliana grimaced at her younger sister before correcting her: "Most handsome."
Bran only smiled wider as he stared at his sister, "I've heard that Lady Margaery is very pretty, too - maybe Robb will marry her one day!" It was her oldest brother's turn to go bright red.
Eliana inwardly sighed at that, desperately hoping that wouldn't be the case. She would rather like to spare herself the awkwardness.
...
She felt she had been lied to when she had been told Loras Tyrell was the attractive Tyrell. It was, unsurprisingly, his sister.
Eliana felt her heart stop in her chest. She had hair like her brother's but thicker and it cascaded into long waves to dance about her waist beautifully, her eyes were so deep and lovely that Eliana felt like they were swallowing her whole the longer she stared at her. She felt her stomach flutter when her eyes trailed downwards to take in the green and gold brocade dress that hugged her body, a neckline that plunged between her breasts to leave very little to the imagination.
"Are you all right?" Margaery asked softly, running a gentle hand through Eliana's hair before it came to settle on her cheek. "Why are you looking at me like that?" She stroked her thumb across Eliana's bottom lip.
"You know why."
Holding Eliana's gaze, Margaery smiled as she dropped her hand to lace it through Eliana's to bring it slowly towards her. When she finally broke her gaze, she closed her eyes softly - her eyelashes brushing against Eliana's palm as she pressed a soft, lingering kiss there. "I think," Margaery breathed, looking up from under her lashes with a small smile, brushing back Eliana's auburn hair to press a kiss to her lips. "That it isn't my brother that you have eyes for."
Eliana didn't answer, finding that she was spiralling into a more difficult predicament than she had anticipated.
Margaery didn't seem to mind when Eliana didn't answer her and instead, she moved to kiss her again and parted her lips which was enough to move Eliana to a confession she wasn't ready to commit. "It's you," she murmured hurriedly, and the kiss deepened even more, her hands moving to clasp at Margaery's waist to pull her into her lap.
Shooting her a lazy smile, Margaery pulled back and crossed her wrists behind Eliana's neck, "I already know that." She brushed her lips against the other woman's ear.
"Margaery," Eliana whispered as her fingers worked at the intricate bodice, feeling Margaery's smile against her skin. Her fingertips ghosted over Margaery's exposed skin, and she stared in fascination at the prickle of goosebumps that followed in their wake. Trailing them further along, Eliana heard the breath hitch in Margaery's throat, and then her shaky exhale when she realised it a moment later. "Do you trust me?" she whispered, leaning close to her ear.
Margaery opened her eyes and turned her head toward Eliana, who leaned back to look at her as the other woman tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She was quiet for a second as she considered the loaded question. "I do," she admitted quietly as though the words felt like a failure.
Curious blue eyes searched the deep brown ones before smiling.
Margaery reached up slowly, taking Eliana's face in her hands to pull her down towards her lips, slow and soft as she did so. She kissed her gently once, twice, and then a third time which roused Eliana to wrap Margaery in her arms tightly. A low moan escaped Margaery's lips as Eliana kissed down her neck; her face buried in the sweet smell of Margaery's hair as the other girl laughed.
...
It wasn't as if she had intended for the trip South to have transpired into anything of what it had become, and forbid the Gods would she allow herself to breathe a single word of it to any of her siblings willingly for it to only reach the ears of her parents... although she could scarce imagine the horror that would come from her mother if she caught wind of anything (she almost laughed to herself). She also considered that the difference in cultures may have swayed her some as justification for her actions should she need to consider the reasoning behind her actions... but she would pretend that all that had happened had been all but forgotten.
Nothing of that had been in what Maester Luwin and the septas her mother had insisted forcing upon her had taught her growing up; she hadn't been warned of any surprises that she had encountered - hadn't been warned on familiarity between women intimately even though that was very much a custom in Dorne and practised elsewhere in the Seven Kingdoms - so, she had almost been at a loss on what to do when Oberyn had discussed at length those pleasures should she want them... and she hadn't given them a second thought until her eyes had fallen on Margaery Tyrell when she was in Highgarden. Damn the Dornish.
Around her, Eliana's siblings continued with their assault of questions as though they were spurred on by one another, bursting to get their answers before the other had the chance to distract her with their own questions as she continued to talk away with a soft smile and easily allowing her mind to run away with her as she sought to describe everything she had seen and done as though she would forget it.
"... That's enough you lot, leave Lia to her peace."
All eyes turned towards the hall's entrance where their father had entered in his usual quiet fashion, drawing the attention of the direwolves as they all bounded over to him excitedly to chase and nip around his feet as the Lord of Winterfell neared the table gathered closest to the hearth with a slight smile, reaching for his youngest son once he was close enough to draw him out from Eliana's lap. "Haven't you had quite enough excitement for one day?" Eddard chuckled, seeing both Arya and Bran shake their head extravagantly in disagreement, Rickon laughing aloud when one of the pups jumped up at their father's scabbard with a playful growl.
Eliana sent him a smile, although secretly grateful that he had come to rescue as she felt Jon's eyes getting the better of her as though he wished to ask more pressing questions about what she was sure he knew she was hiding. She wasn't sure she would be able to hold out against him all that well. "It's all right, father... They haven't seen me in three moons," she reasoned softly, finding their excitement to be a welcomed breath of fresh air in her return home even though they were, in fact, hosting the King.
She also knew that the sheer fact that they were hosting Robert didn't mean anything good either.
Eddard smiled, warm and soft, "There's plenty of time for you all to interrogate your sister later on - but right now, we have to prepare a feast for King Robert." Her father reached out to lightly squeeze her arm, before turning toward her siblings and breaking off his speech for a split second, his eyes slowly trailing back to her as he glanced over his shoulder again at the others. "Sansa, Arya, can you go and help your mother in the kitchens, I'm sure there's plenty you can-"
Arya moved to interject with an eye roll, "But father!"
He took a deep breath, grey eyes looking up to lock with his eldest daughter, and he looked so serious at that moment that Eliana could practically feel her stomach drop from the sheer nervousness of what he could possibly want to talk to her about but instead, he took a deep breath, looking to Arya and nudging her along gently. "Go on, go now," he compelled to his other daughters as they reluctantly rose from their seats, jolting the pups at their feet as they did. Eddard's eyes flickered over to his eldest son suddenly, "Robb, go find Rodrik with Jon, he has a list for you." Eddard spoke quietly, offering a smile that was not normal or familiar to her father, it made her a bit nervous just seeing it.
"Father - "
Much to everyone's surprise, it was Robb who interrupted Arya as he caught their father's growing look of disapproval and she silently wondered when her father's resolve would finally be met. But then again, she didn't wish to see it. Rising to his feet quickly, Robb prompted Bran to rise as well whilst Eddard set Rickon on his feet. "I think what Father is trying to say is that he would like a word with Lia. Alone." He looked at his two sisters with an amused smile, jerking his head towards the door for them to start moving. "Go on, go now." Robb ushered both Bran and Rickon in its direction, Jon and Theon also rising to leave once Robb's eyes drifted over to them.
Robb caught his father's relieved smile as his heir passed them both with the remaining litter of pups dancing around his feet. He patted his father's shoulder with a small smile before turning to Eliana, moving to press his lips to her forehead. "We've missed you, Lia."
Eliana felt herself smiling at the sentiment, knowing that beneath his lord-like demeanour Robb was still Robb, her young naive brother, and it truly warmed her heart. Once the last of her siblings had vanished from the hall to leave them alone, Eliana rose to her feet and turned fully towards her father. Her worry was in full swing as panic jolted within the pits of her stomach. It also didn't help that her pup was still insistently running about her feet and whining.
Reaching for her father, Eliana encircled her arms so they came to rest on the back of his shoulders to pull him to her chest in a strong wave. Unlike Robb, Eliana wasn't incredibly tall, but she was secretly thankful she was the perfect height that her father was more than able to rest his chin atop her head. His arms came around her to hold her close to him and Eliana smiled but despite her best efforts, she could feel in his body language that something was desperately off. Something she needed to know.
Turning her face towards his cheek, Eliana pressed a kiss to the bearded skin before she pulled back slightly, "What's wrong?" she frowned softly, her eyes searching his face for answers.
Her father gave her a considering look, "Tell me, Sweetling, how was your trip?" Eliana wondered if that was the question he truly wanted to ask. All the same, she let him pull away and guide her back towards the benches near the hearth, holding both her hands as they sat back down slowly.
Eliana hummed in amusement, inclining her head in thought. "It wasn't what I had expected but is anything?" she mused with a small smile. She didn't know what she had been expecting from her trip; perhaps she was still in a slight shock that he had agreed to it in the first place but then she supposed she hadn't necessarily been alone with Thomos and Jarrard for company, and her father had insisted on Jory accompanying her with a small guard, too even though she was certain Jory had been sent to act as her babysitter. "The Martells and the Tyrells were kind hosts... very polite to the point I'm surprised I didn't swoon and get whoo'd over straight away. I have no complaints." Eliana informed him with a tight smile, grimacing as she thought about the reasoning behind having come up with the grand idea to begin with. "I was well looked after."
"And yet?" He shot her a warm smile.
She gave a slight shrug of her shoulders and if she was honest with herself, she could have thought to dread anything more if she tried. "I'm sure I will shrivel up and die, I can't wait." Her father fixed her with a stern look at her use of sarcasm and she held his gaze confidently. If she were to travel South again permanently, both her freedom and everything she had come to love would shift from beneath her and she was certain that wasn't something she truly wanted. Reaching into her leather mantle, her fingers rooted around its panelling to eventually withdraw two tightly rolled missives before she turned them toward her father, "From both Doran and Mace..."
Her eyes watched steadily as he unfurled them carefully to read their contents. She couldn't mistake the frown that appeared across his brow as he did, more than likely silently questioning why Prince Doran hadn't disclosed the names of his young sons and had proposed something entirely different. She hadn't seemed so opposed to it; however, she could see her father thought differently about it. Eliana tried not to smile, "Why are you pulling that face for?"
"What face?"
Eliana almost snorted, "The face of disapproval."
"It's nothing, well..." Eddard nodded slowly in thought, she could see the query growing deeper in his eyes as he brought a hand up to rub the underside of his chin. "I'm sorry, I'm just a bit confused," he shook his head slightly as if to emphasise his perplexity to Eliana, letting a deep sigh pass his lips. "Oberyn? Not Quentyn?" He eyed her curiously and Eliana knew at that moment that her Father was in fact disappointed, there was no denying that in the slightest.
Ah, so he is disappointed... Eliana's eyes darted over her father's face nervously, "Not who you were expecting?"
"No!" Eddard said a bit too quickly once he realised he had startled his daughter. Eliana saw him wince at her reaction and a deep frown settled across his brow. "It's... I- I didn't expect Oberyn to be offered for your hand, he wasn't who I had been expecting, Sweetling," her father murmured, seemingly more to himself in his growing annoyance, shaking his head and rubbing at the back of his neck, "Did Doran say anything more on this?" he added on, looking in pain.
"No, in all honesty." That part still frustrated her - for the duration of her time in Dorne, Doran had kept to himself for the most part - whether that had been due to his ill health or not, she had no idea and thought better not to persist. She had opted to busy herself with Arianne and gained a level of exploration rather than try to seek him out. That is how she had ended up spending her time with Oberyn... which part of her still saw as a blessing in disguise. "I saw him only a handful of times while I was there," she continued and saw that he still looked troubled, "I have no complaints about Oberyn, Father... he was not what I expected."
Eddard's brow had grown so deep in thought that Eliana could clearly hear the grinding of his teeth. "He never is." She had never given it a second thought that in announcing this to her father that he would be so disappointed, to seem so conflicted over the Dornish Prince being thrown into the mix as a potential suitor for Eliana. Although she supposed to herself it was due to his exploits that her father had developed that opinion. She winced again.
"Don't worry on it now... We'll speak more on this later, I promise." She watched him as he tucked the papers away hurriedly and inwardly sighed, coming to the conclusion that Willas Tyrell seemed like the better alternative for her father. Sighing again, Eddard turned towards Eliana and he looked even more grave than before, "There's something else I wish to speak to you about." Ah.
Eliana's features softened immediately, and she wondered if this was to do with Robert's reasoning for being here - he hadn't seen her father in near on seven years and the only reason he had come now was that Jon Arryn had died. His eyes found hers again and she could see how hard the news had taken him. She wouldn't have expected it any other way. In her father's youth, he had been fostered in the Eyrie and Jon had become another father to him, that she had always known along with his other ward, Robert Baratheon. Jon Arryn was also quite possibly the reason she was ever born when Aerys demanded their heads, and Jon had raised his banners in protest rather than give them up.
"I heard about Jon Arryn, I'm sorry, father..." she trailed off when she saw him produce a separate missive to hold out to her. Eliana studied his face for a long moment before taking it from him and unfurling it. "Is this what I rode home so hard for that I nearly killed my horse?" She had been told the King had left the Capitol of King's Landing whilst she was still in Highgarden, and she had hoped she would have been able to reach Riverrun with enough time on her side - which for the best part, she had until she had learned her grandfather wasn't very well.
He nodded stiffly to the paper in her hand, "This arrived along with the King... there was no rider, only a carved wooden box with a false bottom left on Luwin's desk in his observatory. It came with a new lens for the observatory."
Eliana's frown hardened at that. A lens? Why would someone go out of their way to acquire them a new lens... "And no one saw who brought it?"
"No one was seen."
"A lens is to help us to see..." Eliana murmured as she saw her father smile grimly. It made absolutely no sense - if this held something they had to know, why smuggle it into the rooms of their Maester with the potential consequence of being discovered? - unless the consequence meant death... Casting her eyes down at the paper in her hands, Eliana stared hard as she attempted to read what was in front of her. After a few moments, she shook her head in frustration, "Father, I can't even make any sense of this..." Her eyes moved over the words in confusion, frowning as she tried her best to read them, secretly wondering if it was some test. "It's all gibberish, some foreign language. What does it read?"
Eddard looked troubled again as he cast his own eyes over the paper, "It was meant for your mother's eyes only. A secret language thought up between herself and her sister when they were girls."
"What does it say?" Eliana asked.
"Lysa says Jon Arryn was murdered by the Lannisters."
"Wait-" Eliana held her father's stare for a long moment as she frowned once she saw his hesitance, "Do you both see truth in what she says? Do you believe Jon was murdered by them?"
"Your aunt took a great risk in sending this to your mother," Eddard sighed again, almost looking pained this time. "What do you make of it?"
Eliana looked down then, suddenly realising why Robert had come all this way... and that it had presented her father with an opportunity - an opportunity to find the truth of Jon Arryn's death, to bring his murderers to the King's justice and protect Lysa and her son. "I don't know the Lannisters," she muttered darkly, looking up to meet his gaze. "Not well enough to pass judgement on them."
Though, that was entirely true.
"Perhaps not," he added, slightly melancholic and she swore she could see moisture glistening faintly at the corners of his eyes. "Which is why I'm asking your opinion."
Eliana didn't know what to advise in all honesty; it was a great risk to accuse the Lannisters without solid proof, making it more difficult in her opinion. How did Lysa know it was them? "It's as you say, Lysa took a great risk in sending this letter when it could have fallen into the wrong hands so easily." She felt conflicted - Lysa had gone to great lengths to send the letter to her mother, in a secret language and to then conceal it but with no proof. "I don't know the Lannisters, father but we know of Tywin's reputation; I suppose it would make sense for them to want to remove any potential problems for their ambitions. Do you think Robert is next?" It wouldn't surprise her if that was the conclusion her father had come to. It would make sense… if all of this was true.
Eddard took a deep breath, "I don't want to believe it."
"But you do," Eliana concluded, nodding in thought as she sighed. Who would have thought she'd be coming home to help her father deal with the beginnings of what seemed to be a potential war? "So, if what Lysa is saying is true and the Lannisters murdered Jon Arryn..." Her eyes widened suddenly. If her father agreed to become Robert's hand, if he travelled South with this King who was to say the same fate wouldn't befall him? She couldn't bear to think about it. "You cannot swear to Robert."
Eddard shook his head again, looking down at the floor for a moment, before looking back at his daughter. "Lia, he rode for a full moon's turn to ask for me to be his Hand."
She suddenly felt so enraged at the thought that he could end up like his predecessor. "And who's to say they won't do the same to you? Who's to say that they won't try to kill you?"
"Lia—"
But she couldn't shake her worry in the slightest now that the seed had been planted. She didn't know the Lannisters in the slightest, she didn't, and she was fully aware of that, but her father was far too important to her. "Whenever we ride South, there is always fear. Fear that we won't return. Fear that we will be dragged into someone else's war... that is what he will do, father and you know it - it isn't up to you, you don't owe Robert anything." She couldn't banish the thoughts from her mind; her grandfather and uncle had gone South at the command of a King and they both never returned home. She couldn't bear it. "What does mother say?"
Eddard flashed her a small smile then, his eyes growing sad. "You know very well what your mother says."
Thank the Gods her mother had also voiced discontent against his decision in choosing to go with Robert. Despite some of her mother's shallow-minded opinions, she was glad she had argued against him. "I don't agree with her on many things but on this, I do."
Her father looked so lost in that moment before taking in a sudden, sharp intake of breath, his elbow coming to rest upon the table to rub at his forehead. "What choice do I have?"
"There is always a choice," Eliana argued, shaking her head in complete disagreement. "You taught me that."
Eddard broke the silence, "I cannot refuse Robert."
Eliana scoffed, "That's the easy choice... if you were to tell Robert otherwise, I'm sure—"
"I cannot, Eliana… I will not refuse him," Eddard said firmly as he looked back to her, his eyes seeming almost haunted at that moment as his voice became heavy with doubt. Eddard shook his head, refusing to believe. "Robert would never harm me or any of my family... we grew up together, he loves me as one of his own."
"As a brother, he may have… as a King, I wouldn't be so sure."
Eddard grimaced, "If I refuse him, it will wound him. Pride is everything to a King."
"Pride?" Eliana laughed bitterly at his comment, "I'm sure Robert is the physical embodiment of pride… a King who came into his throne after accepting the murder of children and the rape of a Princess before her own murder?"
An uncomfortable silence fell between them as the words left her mouth. She knew her father couldn't deny her words as soon as she had said them but was there truly any lie in it? Robert was no longer the person her father had grown up with, people change and so did priorities… what if the Targaryen children who were smuggled from the country did decide to rise up and rebel against those who took it from them?
"I've heard whispers in the South, all the way from the East... of a Targaryen girl born, silver-haired and purple-eyed living with her brother in Pentos. If these whispers are true, I fear you'll be joining Robert in another one of his wars."
Eddard blanched at her words. "A child, if the rumours are true." He was fully aware Ser Willem Darry had sailed across the Narrow Sea with young Viserys and his newborn sibling as Rhaella laid dead in her birthing bed at Dragonstone. He had just chosen to forget.
"That will mean very little to Robert if she's a Targaryen, and you know it… I don't want you to spend your life fighting his wars." If the King referred to them as Dragonspawn, she was confident he would see them the same way easily enough.
Eddard frowned, "How did you hear about this?" He wondered how his daughter had suddenly become so involved in matters she shouldn't know of, and he was also concerned that she didn't realise how dangerous that was either.
She contemplated telling her father that she had learned many secrets from the lips of Oberyn Martell regarding the Targaryens but she didn't know if she truly wanted to tell him that she'd learnt that a secret marriage pact had taken place where the hand of Arianne Martell had been promised to Viserys Targaryen in return for Dorne's support in winning the Iron Throne back for the young Targaryen - the pact being an opportunity for the Martell's vengeance for Elia's murder during the Sack of King's Landing. Oberyn had only told her once he'd learned of her disgust in what had befallen his sister, something she still found herself surprised with now knowing.
She also didn't think her father would take kindly to learning that the pact made involved overthrowing Robert. She also couldn't bring herself to betray the trust of a man who was still heartbroken over the murder of his beloved sister.
"One of the merchants at Planky Town, they had sailed all the way to Dorne from a Magister's manse in Pentos," she started to explain with a slight frown on her face as her father stared hard in return. "He was speaking with Oberyn at the time, but I did hear him say about the last remaining Targaryens."
"Targaryens..." He repeated slowly... So, the rumours were true and perhaps Willem Darry had succeeded in settling in Braavos with the children.
"He will drag you into another needless war and you know it," Eliana commented harshly, almost slamming her fist down on the table in frustration. She doubted that he would relent to her the more she argued and tried to guilt-trip him that he was truly making the wrong decision. "So, say you agree to Robert's offer… what does that mean for us?"
Eddard went silent again and Eliana could see him silently working it out in his head and it made her wonder if he had actually spoken to her mother about what was actually going to happen.
"Your mother will govern the North in my stead and Robb will stay here where he will learn to rule, he must be ready when his time comes. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell."
At his words, Eliana struggled to withhold her annoyance at Robb being given his opportunity so soon, but she stilled herself, reigning in her thoughts as it wasn't to ever be her responsibility to rule Winterfell as the eldest daughter. But it would always upset her. All she was destined to do was marry into another House and forge an alliance for her family, bring children into the world and pretend she would be happy in her marriage - and quite frankly, she couldn't think of anything worse.
If her father saw her upset, he didn't say anything and instead carried on, his frown deep in situ. "Rickon will stay with your mother and Robb - he is still very young," he paused momentarily, clearing his throat to pull her back to focus. Eliana tried to not assume that his intentions sought to uproot their entire family. "I plan to take your sisters with me to King's Landing seeing as Sansa must wed Joffrey, and it's about time Arya learned the ways of a Southron court as well."
A part of her wondered if her father had truly seen Joffrey for the welp he was, a vindictive child who was not deserving of her sister. She also wondered what her mother's stance on that was, but she supposed it was deemed an insult to refuse such a great honour… one of which she was certain Arya would soon face, too.
"Anything else would make them suspicious of us?" Eliana asked with a raised brow.
Eddard reached for her hand, "And we can't afford it, Sweetling." He chuckled when he saw her pup lick at her open palm affectionately, "Bran shall come, too."
Eliana shook her head immediately - so, her first inclination was true; her father would uproot their family and break her mother's heart in the process. "Father, that will tear mother apart." Out of all her siblings, Bran was her mother's favourite and to force them apart was cruel.
Still, her father persisted with his intentions as though it was nothing and something so small that her mother would simply forgive him over time. "I was no older than eight when I was fostered at the Eyrie," Eddard explained softly, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "There may already be bad blood between Robb and Prince Joffrey... Bran will grow up with the young princes and become their friend as Robert became mine. That will help."
Eliana doubted it would. From what she had already been told, Joffrey was believed to be a bad egg and had already rubbed Robb and Jon up the wrong way. Joffrey was not someone her sister deserved, crown prince or not.
She couldn't help but wonder where she fell into all of this - he had been quick to dismiss talk of Willas Tyrell and Oberyn Martell or all talk of marriage (as he had pushed her to make a decision within the coming months) to disclose all the sudden information she had missed since coming home. She also felt very disconcerted at the simple prospect of her family being spilt apart to opposite ends of the country with little control of their own.
She desperately didn't want to ask the question that sat on the tip of her tongue, but she also hoped if she did, it would settle her already growing anxiety. "What of me?"
Her father slowly met her eyes, the thumb that had been stroking her knuckles stopped and his hand moved to hold hers tightly. "You're coming with me," Eddard said with finality, a dark look crossing his face in that quiet moment between them. "I need someone I can trust by my side."
She wondered if he had phrased it in that way to sway her, to twist her arm into agreeing and making her choice easier… because it was incredibly hard to say no to him at the best of times, but now, even more so. But her moral sense of duty to him as her father had her internally screaming to herself, "All right." She would never forgive herself if something were to happen to him.
Her father moved to press a soft kiss to the crown of her head. "Thank you, Sweetling," Eddard replied quietly before pausing for a short moment and Eliana knew he could sense her unease at having to leave her home yet again but this time, for a longer time than before. "I know it's a hard choice to make, but it's for the best," he added quietly.
"It doesn't feel like it," Eliana retorted, allowing herself a moment to mourn the loss of everything that once was.
Eddard stroked her cheek with the calloused pad of his palm, his eyes slowly ghosting over her face. "I know." He hesitated for a couple of seconds and Eliana almost swore she could the faint look of dread upon his face before it disappeared into nothing but a small smile again. "Tonight, we smile, and we enjoy our time together before we must part ways."
Her father's choice of words did nothing to settle her worry and if anything, only made her anxiousness grow as it settled in the pit of her stomach. They would go South and while the prospect of knowing what had happened to her grandfather and her uncle terrified her beyond belief, Eliana knew that her own worries were nothing in comparison to what her father would be faced with - and what dangers he would also encounter - so, who was she to argue?
No matter the magnitude of foreboding that filled her mind, Eliana pushed it aside and prepared herself to say goodbye to their place - their home - here in the North.
The Godswood, Winterfell
JON
...
Ghost, he'd decided was the perfect fit as he sat firmly against the trunk of the great Weirwood, watching the ball of snowy fur bound through the brush after an onyx ball of fur around the grove with their yelps and adolescent growls echoing up into the air as he chuckled. "Ghost has a nice ring to it, don't you think?" He looked over to his sister who was sitting quietly at the pool's edge, a spot so often occupied by their father in the three acres of old packed earth, smiling faintly.
He frowned as he looked at her, seemingly normal with her usual styled Northern braid woven through her dark auburn hair and midnight-coloured sparring tunic while sporting a slightly unusual tan, a warm hue settling over her normally snowy features he was so used to. If Jon squinted, he was sure he could see the skin atop her nose peeling.
Jon still found it amusing that she was more insistent than ever that nothing had transpired during her time South in those ninety days she was gone from home, but he found it even more amusing whenever someone stopped his sister to ask her, her worry grew visibly. Jon was almost certain that Eliana had done something that she didn't want their father to know about and desperately, desperately, didn't want her mother to learn of either.
"So, are you going to tell me what really happened in Dorne or are you going to act weird every time someone asks you?" Jon reasoned playfully, laughing at how quickly her head whipped around to look at him in feigned outrage. Obviously, Jon was convinced something had happened but he also wasn't sure he felt entirely comfortable with Eliana telling him even if she did, but he also figured that she would probably feel more comfortable if she did tell him.
Eliana scoffed, shrugging her shoulders at him dismissively. "I'm not acting weird." Hmm… she definitely was acting weird.
Watching her quietly, Jon nodded slowly and made a mental note of how defensive she was being. "Of course, you're not." Jon agreed with a slow bob of his head, watching her curiously. He considered if it was Dorne or Highgarden that had her acting strangely. Sighing, Jon pulled his wineskin from where he'd discarded it to his left and took a quick swig. "Next, you'll tell me that nothing happened and you're pretending to preach your innocence to father."
Something had happened and the more she insisted on acting weirdly, the more Jon found he wanted to know.
Throwing the stone she was holding into the pool's depths and folding her arms across her chest, Eliana turned on Jon. "Jon, I swear-"
In his panic, Jon rushed to his feet and stumbled forward slightly (he wasn't sure if it was from the wine or not), refraining from waving his hands frantically as if he thought that would calm her down. "Look! I'm your brother and I love you- and I couldn't care less about what you did on your trip, but you need to be more convincing." He could see it unfolding before him; her mother would corner her in the hall later at the feast for Robert and the questions would follow from there… it would be horrible.
"Who says I'm hiding anything?" Eliana bristled.
"I'm not saying you are. I just find it a bit odd that you haven't mentioned anything about Willas Tyrell, is it? Or Oberyn Martell." Jon laughed when he saw her eyes flash at him dangerously. Was it so bad that he was just curious? "Which-" he lowered his hands in defence when he saw her glower darken, "Which if I was in your position and had gone travelling to meet these suitors before signing your life away to get a taste of what- oh."
Jon paused when he saw the faint blush rise onto Eliana's cheeks and she immediately shrunk in on herself and lowered her eyes, rubbing her hand over her face. "What?"
Jon laughed again, suddenly unable to keep it in any longer as his sister looked practically mortified. "You did get a taste, didn't you?" He would never have thought Eliana of all people would have jeopardised her womanhood for a Dornishman she didn't truly know. "When Theon said about Dornish spear-"
"Jon, shut up!" Eliana interrupted with a glare and Jon realised she - his sister - snapping at him affirmed that her resolve had been met. "Yes, all right? Are you happy now?" She pressed her hands to her face and groaned loudly in her frustration. "Yes, I may have gotten a bit too involved with someone." She looked so worried at her confession as she announced it to him, a panicked silence falling between them as their two pups continued to tumble around the brush with one another.
"That's it?" Jon frowned, a part of him wishing that Eliana would just trust him enough to tell him. That couldn't be it, could it? "Come on, Lia- I won't say anything." It was ridiculous that she was refusing to tell him when it was quite clear he was the more trustworthy brother - he had always held her voice in confidence, and kept her secrets close to his heart. "What I'm saying is, if I've noticed that you're acting weird what are you going to do when your mother asks?"
He knew if Lady Catelyn caught wind of anything untoward from her trip, all the Seven Hells would break loose. Jon desperately didn't want to play a part in resigning Eliana to that fate.
As his words reached her ears, Jon saw it dawn on her as she registered what he had said, and he knew she'd realised he had a valid point. "I- I, uh… Good point." Eliana groaned again and let herself fall back into the dried leaves that had gathered on the ground from the Weirwood tree that Jon was crouched beneath.
Jon watched as the black pup raced over to his sister, pouncing onto her chest to then lick at the underside of her cheek whilst his own sniffed at her hair and butt his muzzle against her forehead. "So," Jon started carefully, seeing Eliana turn her head towards him slowly and he tossed her his drinking pouch. "Are you going to tell me? Or am I going to have to wait and watch you spill all to your mother?" He pulled a face at her and shifted so he could wrap his cloak around his body better, the movement prompting his pup to race into his lap and settle between his legs.
Eliana sat up, rubbing the direwolf pup's ears affectionately before sucking in a sharp breath, "Oberyn is a very persuasive person. A passionate person." She almost laughed at her own words before taking a swig from the pouch. "He's everything the rumours say and so much more..." Eliana looked conflicted for a second, frowning to herself as she thought. "One moment, we were sparring and then there was touching, kissing and…" Her eyes met Jon's slowly and she grimaced when she saw him blush and shift uncomfortably. "It just sort of happened, and in all honesty, it was kind of exciting."
"Exciting?" Jon repeated, frowning.
"Yeah," Eliana nodded, turning toward him then. "Oberyn was exciting, Jon… and it was nice, just speaking with someone and learning about them for a short while. It was nice. Nice that I didn't know him, and he didn't know me."
"Are you…" Jon trailed off awkwardly, wondering how to ask the question on the tip of his tongue. If she had jeopardised her virtue for a man he was sure she would unlikely see again, Jon imagined her wedding night would be interesting.
"Yes, Jon," Eliana glared at him with narrowed eyes. "Everything is still intact."
Eliana fidgeted on the ground, pulling her legs towards her chest so she could fold her arms over them, resting her chin on her outstretched palms. "I'm not Sansa living in a fairytale world, Jon, don't worry. You know I don't want to marry but if I could convince father, I believe I would have freedom with Oberyn."
Jon blinked at her. Had he heard her right? His sister was proposing marriage to someone based on her own belief that she would have the freedom to do as she pleased. Jon didn't seem so convinced by the validity. "It would be different once you're married, Lia and then—"
"I don't think it would be."
He could see the small hopeful gleam in her eyes and it almost broke his heart, knowing that she had probably sat hard and thought on it, had considered everything and it made him sad to think that her only - seemingly obvious - option was to go South to Dorne because she believed she would have the freedom she wanted. It was ridiculous. "I don't think that's the only option, Lia."
"Give me another option, Jon," Eliana smiled sadly, "and don't say run away."
But in truth, he didn't have another option for her, and he definitely didn't know what to even suggest to try and help. He supposed going to King's Landing with their Father would buy her some time but not much, and even then father would push for it and—
He must have been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even register her hand when it suddenly came up to touch his arm, pulling him back to the surface of his thoughts. "It's okay, Jon." Eliana smiled softly but he could see the resolute sadness in the depths of her eyes.
"I want you to be happy."
She was quiet for a few moments and Jon thought he caught a quick glimpse of tears brewing in the corner of her eyes. If she was tearful, she was quick to hide it. "I know you do…" Eliana dropped her head so it fell to rest on his shoulder with a sigh, "I've had a hard time convincing myself that this is the best thing to do. And... I know that I may not be happy to begin with but who's to say I can't grow to be happy?" She sounded so curious and Jon's chest constricted at the hopefulness in his sister's voice as she pressed herself against him.
Jon let his head roll to rest on top of hers, "Do you think father would really agree?"
Eliana was silent again and Jon could sense she felt confused as she tried to figure out the root to go to convince their father of whom her betrothed should be. It would be inevitably difficult whichever way she chose to go about it as their father wasn't an easy man to sway despite the clear soft spot he held for Eliana; it would take some serious convincing on her part for their father to agree to let her wed Oberyn Martell, who Jon was sure, was someone their father wouldn't want her married to.
"I'll just have to convince him," Eliana shrugged, sitting up slowly before looking at their direwolf pups as they continued to tumble around the grove. He could tell she was worried about what would happen, so he remained silent and instead chose to watch as she climbed to her feet. "We should go back," she announced and turned around to face him, holding out her hand to him.
Jon took her outstretched palm, "You really want to?"
Eliana gave him a lopsided smile and affirmed to him that their returning to reality was the very last thing she really wanted to be doing at that moment and he couldn't help but agree. "Not really but I enjoy my mother in a state of panic every once and a while." She let out a soft chuckle and hauled Jon to his feet before starting off from the Weirwood slowly west towards the Hunter's gate to leave the Godswood.
"So do I," Jon laughed, whistling to get the pups' attention as they froze and started to hurl towards them before moving to follow his sister.
The early morning sun glittered through the dense canopies of ironwoods and hawthorn as they walked together, falling into a comfortable silence with their attention on their pups, still racing through the green boughs and circling around the last oaks in the small, wooded area and causing the echo of sparrows to spurt into the air to escape. Jon watched as his sister smiled, inhaling the deep scent of moss and wet earth from the evening's heavy downfall.
He wondered if she could truly resign herself to a life down in the South where there would be little reminders of all she loved about the North, nothing that was familiar to her... no luscious Godswood with bountiful elms and stern oaks, no winter snows, no hot springs... none of her family. Jon was certain Eliana hadn't ventured to consider all aspects of her life when coming to the conclusion that persuading their father to marry her to Oberyn Martell was the best opportunity for her. Jon refused to believe it.
They turned the last corner to disappear out of the grove and he found himself laughing again when he watched as she struggled to force the direwolves away from the kennels as they started to howl, excitedly padding from paw to paw at the hounds in the cages before they made it into the courtyard to see the already hectic bustle ahead of the coming evening's feast. Jon grimaced, a feast he wouldn't be invited to.
Despite the hurt it caused him, he knew better than to dishonour his Father by thinking he would be able to attend a feast where the King would be present and pretend he was a part of their family - the bastard of Eddard Stark would be a slight and while Jon knew his siblings would miss him, he wouldn't be under the watchful eye of Lady Stark and he wouldn't have to suffer the intensity of her stares for one evening - for which, he was secretly grateful.
He knew Catelyn Stark would forever hate him even if his conception was by no choice of his own, and he would have to accept it forever, too. While he loved his Father utterly, he also found himself angry at him for the hatred bestowed upon him by the Lady of Winterfell for having not been loyal to her - how he wished he was a trueborn Stark, and how he wished he wasn't the bane of her fury. He couldn't blame her, no matter how much Robb and Eliana protested against her - he understood why she felt insulted.
Composing himself, Jon sucked in a deep breath and turned his attention to the courtyard and almost staggered when he met someone's gaze almost immediately.
Catelyn Stark was standing across the courtyard with her hands folded neatly in front of her, her cold cyan eyes watching him closely. Jon hesitated, pressing his lips together as he went stiff beside Eliana, prompting her to stop short and shoot him a curious look of intrigue. He felt the anger rise within him. "I hate to sour the mood but your mother is in the courtyard." Jon felt an odd coldness run through him as his anger took its home inside his chest.
The smile fell quickly from her face as a look of dread took its place, her head slowly following Jon's gaze to finally settle upon her mother who stood mere feet from them. "Oh, Gods," Eliana breathed with a sigh of annoyance she didn't bother to hide. Jon could tell she was probably already panicking and her mind racing to find excuses or ways to protect herself from telling her mother more than she needed to know.
"It's okay, I'm sure she just wants to speak about the feast for this evening," Jon attempted to reassure her weakly.
Eliana blanched when her mother started to move towards them, her gowns sweeping across the ground in her movements. Jon, however, doubted it was anything bad. "That among other things." She shifted on her feet nervously and glanced in the direction of the Smithy and then to the library as if trying to plan some route of escape. Eliana made to start towards the Smithy in her sudden haste, almost tripping over the direwolf pup at her feet. "Do you think I could pretend I haven't seen her and-"
"Eliana!"
Her mother had shouted across the courtyard after having seen her subtle attempt to move off somewhere to avoid her, spurring her forward with more urgency that had Eliana groaning again and Jon only just managed to suppress his chuckle at her reaction.
Eliana came to a resolute halt in her walking. "Or not."
Rubbing Eliana's shoulder softly, Jon felt for his sister and the burden she bore but he knew he couldn't help her in this. "She's moving with purpose," he managed to mutter before his eyes widened, "Lady Stark," Jon acknowledged stiffly in a flat voice, moving to start off towards the Great Keep. He turned back to briefly glance at his sister as the Lady of Winterfell came to stand beside her quietly, her eyes watching him silently. "I'll see you later, Lia... Ghost, come here. Come on," he called after his wolf pup as it padded after him, eventually joining him at his side and Jon ruffled the snow-white fur between Ghost's ears before continuing on his way.
Jon hadn't moved too far away when he heard Lady Catelyn's voice reach his ears as she addressed Eliana calmly, "... I think you've been avoiding me on purpose." He applauded the woman for how aware she was of everything - Eliana wouldn't have stood a chance at evading her for much longer and it was a shame to think that his sister didn't feel as though she could share her true feelings with their Father or her mother.
"Don't be silly, mother," he heard Eliana scoff in disbelief and he rolled his eyes, "I've missed you." Jon glanced over his shoulder to see that the Lady of Winterfell had gathered Eliana into her arms with her lips pressed to her brow in a warm embrace, smiling softly. The sight, despite Jon's discomfort, made him smile.
He saw Catelyn smooth Eliana's hair between her fingers, "Gods, the sun has lightened your hair whilst you've been away..." she pulled back and chuckled, rubbing her finger over Eliana's nose in amusement. "Look at your nose! It's peeling... I'll have Luwin bring you some salve, so it doesn't irritate you."
Eliana looked pained, "Thank you, mother."
"Where have you been hiding?"
He glanced away again with the intention to give the pair some privacy, "Just in the Godswood with my brother, not kidnapped." Jon heard Eliana supply as an excuse and he smiled a bit more, his chest warming at her words.
Lady Catelyn was silent for a few moments before she replied, "Tell me of your trip, Sweetheart."
"Warm," Eliana mused with a laugh, "Very warm, in fact."
Jon rolled his eyes and allowed a chuckle to pass his lips freely.
The Great Hall - Winterfell
JAIME
...
He hated the North, that he was certain.
There was nothing that would ever make him willingly want to stay residing in the North any longer than the King wanted to be there let alone live there in its cold wasteland. He hated the clothes, the food, the ale but most of all, the people. They were so utterly miserable, miserable enough to match the miserable land that they lived in. He couldn't think of anything worse.
Jaime glanced around the hall in his boredom before eyeing the contents of his cup and sighing, "Might as well be drinking horse piss." He took a swig and tried – and failed – to suppress his groan as it escaped his lips. Why had Robert insisted on dragging the entire royal party North? "Trapped in the wolf's den..."
The hall he found himself in was hazy with smoke from the endless candles that had been lit and the smell of roasted meat sat heavy in the air as though it was meant to make him feel more welcome. The thought made Jaime scoff again. He cast his eyes across the stone walls and slowly took in the banners strewn across them in their flurry of white, gold and crimson.
Somewhere lost in the clangour of more than a hundred drunken conversations and synchronised clatter of cups and scraping of cutlery against pewter plates, Jaime thought he could still hear the persistence of the singer on the high harp, and he once again wondered to himself how he found himself here so far from where he wished to be. He felt almost naked without his white cloak, adorned in his crimson silks and black satin cloak that seemed so foreign to him now. Father would be pleased, he glowered to himself.
Jaime's eyes slowly moved to the high table raised at the far end of the hall where Lord and Lady Stark were hosting the Usurper and his sister, the Queen. He stared silently as Eddard Stark helped his sister up the steps to the dais and then to her seat and Jaime couldn't deny her beauty as her jewelled tiara glinted in the candlelight. He looked for Robert next and bit back a laugh as he took in the King of the Seven Kingdoms - an undignified red-faced fat oaf sweating through his royal gambeson. His sister must have felt his eyes as for a moment, they met and Jaime couldn't suppress the smirk that fell across his lips and he raised his cup to her. Cersei merely glanced away. Fuck her, he sighed to himself… well, I'd rather be fucking her.
Cersei sent him a warning glare.
He rolled his eyes and finally turned his attention away from the dais knowing he would only grow more annoyed. He didn't want to waste any more energy on the Starks if he was honest with himself, and he certainly didn't want to stare after his sister when she evidently didn't want to give any of her time to him. He found himself sometimes wishing he was not a sacred member of the Kingsguard if it meant he could be hundreds of leagues away in the Westerlands. Bristling to himself, Jaime allowed his eyes to drift again as he noted Stark's bastard son had been seated on the benches amongst the young squires and was seemingly in a world of his own, helping himself to wine whilst his siblings played their part. He had been like that too, once.
Taking another long swig from his cup, Jaime swallowed with a frown when his verdant eyes slowly etched towards the hall's entrance and he almost damned himself when he immediately recognised Stark's only surviving brother (not that he could recall his name but not that he really cared either, they all looked the same to him); the man had been graced with the unfortunately familiar long face of the Starks but he also appeared gaunt from what Jaime could tell. He was dressed in the signature black garb of the Night's Watch with a heavy silver chain hanging around his neck. But it wasn't the Night's Watchman who had caught Jaime's attention - it was the person walking at his side.
He had only met Lyanna Stark once and that had been at the Tourney of Harrenhal so many years ago but from where he was stood at the far side of the hall, Eddard Stark's eldest daughter was near the spitting image of her except for the auburn glow to her head of hair, her bright cerulean eyes and high cheekbones which spoke of her mother, Lady Catelyn Tully. Her hair - a mane was more accurate - had been pulled back into a loose Northern braid with stray strands hanging free around her round face; her gown was pewter in colour and trimmed with white that had also been sewn with an intricate pattern of old runes across the bodice to dance over her breasts, revealing fair skin before continuing down the slim sleeves that hugged her arms. Jaime had to almost squint to see the wristlet that gleamed in the candlelight though he couldn't quite tell what was on the silver band that hung there but what he could see was the silver chain at her neck of a scaled fish - a trout - that was the sigil of her mother's house.
The girl didn't share the same beauty as Stark's departed sister, Jaime was certain of that. She was something entirely different and he knew instantly why her father had kept her hidden in the North for so long as would any man whose daughter looked like she did. This Stark woman, stopping at every table for a chat with whoever was sat there while wearing a smile, had both the beauty of the North in the fairness of her skin and the beauty of the Riverlands in the laughter of her eyes.
He would be lying to himself if he said that he didn't find the girl beautiful.
Jaime found himself still staring as the pair paused at where her bastard brother had been seated on one of the benches not far from where Jaime was lingering and immediately, he saw the fond look settle on her face at whatever the boy was saying to her, prompting her to bend to kiss his cheek which in turn made their uncle laugh. "... Always part of our family, Jon, no matter where you're seated." Her voice was soft with that familiar Northern cadence, ruffling his raven hair. She moved away from her brother eventually and left her uncle with him as she carried on her way through the hall.
Jaime's eyes followed her as the young Stark daughter danced through the crowds, her palms clasping several shoulders in warm greeting before she reached to grasp a cup of wine from a table to then continue on her way.
She paused, a small smile rising onto her lips as Jaime followed her gaze to see a man he recognised from somewhere, the same man he had seen in the entrance yard earlier behind the welcoming party. He had shaggy jet hair and stubbled cheeks; he had a wry smile on offer to her. He wore a studded leather surcoat emblazoned with the sigil of Stark with mail underneath, his sword sat firmly at his waist. Jaime felt his eyes narrow as the man reached for her hand and pressed a light kiss to her hand, murmuring something to her quietly.
"Gods, Cassel, move off!"
Cassel! Jaime inwardly sighed at the realisation of the name. The man must have been the Captain of the Guard; he had also been with them during the Greyjoy rebellion, so perhaps he was a skilled warrior… or not as he had failed to remember his name.
Jaime looked over to the man who had spoken.
He was stood beside Jory Cassel and rivalled the height of the Mountain: the bearded Northman stood with a wide grin on his face as he swept her up into his arms to then spin her around with a booming laugh rising into the air. Once he set her back down on her feet, Jaime could blatantly see that the man was an Umber; he wore a flame-red surcoat with his cloak clasped around his shoulders with a chain. Across his chest, a roaring giant stood with broken silver chains.
Jaime found himself intrigued at the apparent friendship Stark's daughter held with both men just by their intimate exchange or perhaps it was standard custom in the North to be up in everyone's business and –
He froze, however, when those Tully blue eyes met his and held his gaze steadily. Jaime continued to stare as she brought her cup to her lips, taking a long sip from it as her eyes never left his. It was almost like a dream he felt trapped in. When she brought the cup away from her lips, Eliana Stark smiled at him.
"She's quite the beauty isn't she, brother?"
Suddenly, Jaime was rudely pulled away from her stare and made to hurriedly glance over his shoulder to see that a man half his height had waddled over to his side, and he found himself groaning when he met his mismatched eyes.
He'd been caught. Tyrion, however, seemed less than bothered by his apparent voyeurism and didn't seem at all in the mood to truly taunt him as he took a quick swig from his own cup before - unluckily for Jaime - throwing a deep frown in Jaime's direction from under his flaxen-coloured hair. "I've heard she's the infamous daughter who persuaded her father to let her begin a marital conquest across Westeros."
Ah... Jaime didn't know whether commenting on that was a wise idea or why his brother had thought to inform him of that unless his staring has roused questions in his brother's mind... or unless he was purposely trying to goad him into that very conversation of possibilities to see what his opinion was on it. Sighing, he continued to lean against the nearest pillar until his head hit the cold stone: "I told you not to leave me alone with these people, brother." He needed to distract himself from the sudden dangerous thoughts rushing about in his mind as Tyrion continued to muse aloud as if to taunt him. Eliana Stark was a girl, nothing more.
"If you must know," his dwarf brother began as Jaime looked away from him again to see the Stark girl now with her eldest trueborn brother (who also took after their mother) and her father's ward (who he was adamant was Balon Greyjoy's youngest son from what he could recall of the rebellion); she was no longer looking at him, however, and he grumbled to himself when he considered in the short moment he lost himself if he was disappointed or not. "I was outside feeling impeccably sorry for Ned Stark's bastard."
Of course, the bastard of Winterfell had struck a place in his brother's heart. "Did he ask for your sympathies?" Jaime dared to wonder, allowing his eyes to follow her still when she pressed a kiss to her brother's cheek and squeezed his hand, gradually moving to pull away again.
"Did Eliana Stark ask for your lingering stare?"
Jaime looked back at his brother again and couldn't help but feel annoyed. Did his brother think he was like one of the many young men in the hall at that very moment who were all watching the young Stark woman like a hawk, yearning after her smile and fawning over her like fools for her words? One thing he prided himself on was not being a fool and yet, he carried on staring after her as she left her brother who had kissed her hand softly, rousing a soft laugh from her. "Have I ever told you that you're my most hated brother?" He didn't mean a single word, of course, he just didn't like the vulnerability Tyrion posed with his question.
Tyrion chuckled and slapped him on the back, "I'm your only brother," he reminded softly, his large head wobbling on his shoulders. His brother fell into a momentary silence beside him which made Jaime look at him again, slightly concerned. He frowned at Tyrion who snorted in response, clearing his throat as if to compose himself again. "I'd imagine you're quite upset that Ned Stark didn't ask our father if you would want to wed his beloved daughter."
Jaime almost choked on the heavy air within the hall at his brother's sudden proclamation and he couldn't stop his eyes from bulging before he fully rounded on him. There were times when he was convinced his brother was truly mad or at least purposely sought to frustrate him. He wondered if their Father had drilled it into Tyrion's head to pester him about the one thing Tywin Lannister had always wanted from him... an heir. "I've sworn vows, little brother," Jaime warned lightly, his eyes flashing down at Tyrion to beg for the conversation to not continue. "The last thing I want is a wife." He was quite happy being a Sworn Knight of the Kingsguard if it meant it kept him close to Cersei.
His brother nodded slowly, his eyes searching his face to evaluate the expression there - it made Jaime feel as though he didn't believe him. "Even if she's that pretty?" Tyrion jerked his head in the direction of the Stark girl and Jaime's gaze followed him to see she had reached the dais and had captured the attention of the King who had risen to his feet eagerly, disturbing the table in the process with his stomach, to bustle past Cersei to then descend the steps to greet Eddard Stark's eldest daughter.
"Even so."
Eliana Stark was a beautiful girl, who was far younger than him and who would follow whatever path her father laid out before her - but because he had consciously agreed she was beautiful didn't mean he wanted to seek her out. A girl, his mind screamed out to him as he watched Robert slowly approach the girl in a couple of long strides without so much as a stumble considering the amount of ale Jaime had seen him consume. He couldn't help but wonder if the girl reminded the King of Stark's sister, Lyanna, as that would explain why he was so apparently taken with her, wanting to hold onto every living thing that reminded him of the late Lyanna Stark. It made Jaime cringe.
"Eliana!" Robert bellowed heartily, seemingly drawing the attention of everyone in the hall as Jaime heard a quick silence begin to fall, everyone's eyes settling there. The King laughed as he stormed towards her; Jaime looked to where Eddard Stark was sitting and found himself chuckling when he saw the other man's eyes were following the King very closely as he approached his daughter. Was Ned Stark distrusting of his friend? He wondered what Eliana must have thought as she watched the man they called King march over to her - did she see him as someone to be revered or did she see him as some other drunken oaf?
Jaime sighed, there was nothing to be revered about Robert anymore.
Glancing away from the oafish King, Jaime looked to observe Eliana silently again and stared as she dipped her head in respect to Robert before stooping into a graceful bow. "Your Grace," he heard her return with a tight smile and Jaime knew she was everything a member of the royal court was - a politician playing at the game and potentially an incredibly clever woman, too. He didn't bother to hide his smirk at that.
Jaime could see Cersei sitting forward in her chair - he doubted she was trying to be subtle about it either - when she had seemed nothing but bored during the entirety of the feast but as soon as Robert moved to reach for Eliana's hand, Cersei's eyes had widened curiously, and her own hands had come up to settle on the arms of the chair with her fingers curling around the wood.
The giant King bent toward her slowly with his red face, his hand moving to grasp the palm of her right hand and Jaime found himself oddly surprised. The gentleness of the action stirred something in Jaime as Robert reached for the young woman's hand to press a soft kiss to it before leaning back with another great laugh, moving to grasp a jug of wine from the nearest table and offering her another cup.
Jaime wanted to applaud her for her polite courtesy and sheer ability to entertain a drunken oaf of a King with resounding success - he also wished to congratulate her for moving his sister to jealousy (unknowingly). Jaime chuckled at the thought as he saw Cersei visibly bristle at their interaction. Women… if Eddard Stark was to agree to be Robert's Hand of the King, Jaime wondered to himself if that meant he would be joined by several of his children in King's Landing - one for which, he hoped was Eliana.
"It seems our sister is irked."
He didn't bother to disagree with Tyrion when it was very much true; if looks could kill, Cersei would have killed Eddard Stark's pride and joy effortlessly. Her eyes were bleary as she glowered down at the young woman aptly conversing with Robert and while Jaime's opinion of Robert wouldn't stray far from being a drunken fool, he found himself pleasantly surprised by Robert's eagerness to speak with Eliana (although he was certain the reasoning behind it was the similarity in her looks to Lyanna which is why he assumed her father looked as tense as he did). He wondered how embarrassed she was to be faced with the great King of Westeros, barely able to fit into his onyx velvet doublet with his favourable crowned golden stag emblazoned across it, pretending very well to like their ill-mannered King.
Robert laughed again, his arm sliding around her shoulders to pull her towards his chest as he awkwardly turned them towards where her father was seated on the dais. Jaime tilted his head, wondering if the woman had confirmed that she would be travelling South with them - the look on Lady Catelyn's face was almost sour enough to match Cersei's so naturally, Jaime guessed that what had befallen the King's lips wasn't well-received by either woman seated on the dais.
Jaime found it all rather amusing to know that one woman, one nineteen-year-old girl, had caused so much disgruntlement just by being courteous. That aside, the young woman was also to be admired for putting up with the King's touch, a mere gesture that caused Cersei's glower to deepen at the imaginary insult he assumed she had seen. "Oh, she definitely is." Jaime couldn't help but smirk: it was very rare that anyone was successful in moving Cersei to this much agitation but that was simply due to her quick temper and inability to assess things as they were. You always were the stupidest Lannister, brother...
He heard Tyrion sigh again, prompting him to look around once more. "Do you reckon she'll try to have her killed?"
The question unsettled him more than he cared to admit. His sister was an incredibly impatient person whose pride could be wounded so easily that Jaime knew any slight - real or imagined - would push her to make rash decisions... she had always been that way, even when growing up at the Rock. He cringed at the thought, knowing that she was too greedy for power but also had little awareness of the consequences of her actions - he had been the same once until Aerys. He had been naive like her until Aerys, something his sister would never understand.
Cringing to himself again, Jaime looked ahead at Eliana once more as Robert laughed again and watched the slender, graceful woman entertain the drunken oaf in conversation and Jaime couldn't help but think that she was to be admired. "I wouldn't put it past her," he offered, truly unsure if Cersei would go that far if she thought it necessary.
Jaime was worried when he found himself relieved when Eddard Stark rose from his seat and made a start to where Robert was standing with his daughter. The man was dressed in a white velvet surcoat with the direwolf sigil sewn across his breast and looked as miserable as he ever had as he retrieved his daughter successfully, swapping places with the King and eventually moving her away from the dais.
Jaime could see the relief in Eddard Stark's face the further they moved away. He saw her face properly for the first time then and part of him was completely confused about how he hadn't noticed her sooner; Eliana was smiling at whatever her father was saying to her under his breath, a warm expression settling over her face.
He saw Eliana loop her arm through his securely and squeeze his forearm lightly, smiling softly. "... It's only Robert, father." He was close enough that he could hear that soft cadence of her voice again and his ears perked up at the sound. He doubted her reply would do anything to soothe her father.
Eddard looked conflicted, a dark troubled look settling across his brow. "Robert is also the King, Lia." Jaime wondered curiously what they had been discussing before they had moved close enough that he could hear them - he guessed it was interesting for Eddard to seem that concerned over it but before he wasn't able to think any more on it, his eyes struck that of Eddard Stark and he froze, steeling to a gradual halt and straightening uncomfortably.
Eliana followed her father's gaze steadily and their eyes met again for the second time that evening. Jaime could feel himself smirking widely as her eyes bored into him slowly, knowing the longer he held her gaze that it would only move Eddard Stark to fury and what a dangerous game that was to play. So dangerous...
Clearing his throat loudly, Eddard Stark moved to stand in front of Eliana as if to conceal her from view and attempt to hide her from him. Looking to Eddard again, Jaime couldn't help the smirk he knew was plastered across his lips incredulously. The older man was glowering at him when he blinked away, nodding stiffly in acknowledgement. "Kingslayer," Eddard Stark ground out lowly, clenching his jaw in frustration before looking towards Tyrion (who he had completely forgotten was still stood beside him) and his expression lifted ever so slightly that Jaime may have missed it if he blinked. "Lord Tyrion." He gave an odd jerk of his head as Tyrion raised his cup in his direction.
Offering his hand towards the man before him, Jaime almost laughed when Eddard turned his nose up at it and altogether ignored the gesture. "Lord Stark," he decided instead, inclining his head politely as though he thought that would gain him favour with the Northern lord. Jaime sighed under his breath and cast his eyes in Eliana's way again, smirking at her as she tilted her head at him in question. "Pardon me," Jaime considered reaching for her hand but knew it wouldn't be very well received. "I believe we've yet to be introduced to one another."
Tyrion snorted from where he sat beside him, snipping at his wine again. "Your eyes have been."
At his comment, Eddard's head whipped in his direction alarmingly fast and Jaime blanched, wanting nothing more than to smother Tyrion at that moment. "Excuse me?" Eddard bit out, clearly agitated by the both of them at the strained tones of his voice.
"Never mind him," Jaime shrugged off, sending Tyrion a warning look before glancing back towards the young woman again with a smile.
Begrudgingly, Eddard inched over slightly so that Eliana wasn't so shielded behind him. Did Ned Stark act this way with all his daughters or was it just the ones Jaime had been caught staring at? With a clenched jaw, the Northern lord finally gave in: "This is my daughter, Eliana." Eddard cleared his throat uncomfortably.
Jaime gestured to her hand with a soft bob of his head, knowing that all the while Eddard's eyes were flashing at him, but he also wondered if he would try his best to hold his nerve in front of his daughter. Jaime could barely contain his smugness as he reached for her hand to gently press a kiss to the soft skin there. "My lady," he murmured, releasing it as quickly as he had taken it.
Standing straight again, Jaime looked back at Eddard who was thunderous. He could see the irritation radiating from the man as the Father and daughter lingered before him and Jaime considered that a victory as an uncomfortable silence settled over them. Glancing over his shoulder at Tyrion, he could see that his brother was grinning at the young woman in front of him. "The daughter who travelled Westeros," his younger brother commented with a smile.
He observed quietly as Eliana considered his brother for a moment, her eyes shining in gleeful amusement. "I wouldn't say three of the seven kingdoms is travelling Westeros, my lord." How was Eddard Stark the father of someone who seemed so personable? Jaime found it oddly refreshing and altogether bizarre, to say the least.
Setting his cup down, Tyrion laughed at the young woman in return. "Perhaps not," he considered softly, tilting his head sideways in thought.
"How did that go for you?"
Jaime didn't bother to fight the words as they left his mouth.
Her eyes floated back over to him almost immediately as soon as he spoke and Jaime truly wondered if she had secured a betrothal from wherever she had been. Part of him hoped she hadn't but he wasn't exactly sure why. Eliana's eyes narrowed at him, studying him curiously and before long, he felt himself becoming uncomfortable under her gaze. "Just fine," Eliana answered curtly, offering him nothing more in return than those two ominous words.
Rising from the bench, Tyrion pushed himself away from the table with a grin to slowly come around to stand at Jaime's side. "A beautiful girl like you shouldn't have to go in search of a husband, they should come flocking to you." Tyrion wagged his eyebrows teasingly which roused a chuckle from the young woman and Jaime found himself frustrated - frustrated with how Tyrion had made her laugh whilst he remained the attention of Eddard's glare.
Tyrion cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention to him as he addressed Eliana. He wondered if his brother was opting to let her Father decapitate him by luring his daughter away from him. "Lady Eliana, would you humour a stunted fool like me and accompany me for a short while?" he quizzed with hopeful eyes, holding his hand out to her.
Jaime watched her nod and he found himself also surprised when Eddard didn't boast an objection to his brother's suggestion either. "Of course, my lord," Eliana agreed with a final, firm nod of her head and they both moved away to leave Jaime standing alone with Eddard in uncomfortable silence.
He stared after them quietly, watching in intrigue as his brother spoke to Eliana in hushed tones so he or Eddard wouldn't hear so well, moving further away. "Is your brother always quick to agitate others?" he heard her question, briefly looking over her shoulder at them with a frown and Jaime's brow dipped when he realised she was talking about him.
Tyrion scoffed, not missing the soft frown upon Eliana's features as she remained looking over her shoulder. Tyrion tugged at her arm, "Jaime is a glorified bodyguard, my lady, so he often gets bored and rather enjoys annoying others," his brother offered in an explanation that had her laughing softly.
"My father is probably the wrong person to annoy."
Tyrion shrugged his shoulders dismissively, "All the more fun for everyone else, my lady."
Jaime couldn't hide his confusion as he felt an uneasy tension settle across his chest heavily, gradually moving to the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure what exactly or why it had taken root there - all he knew was that it was something to do with the way Eddard Stark was glowering at him with his eyes of steel, shining in hatred when he slowly glanced back to the other man.
Even after all those years of having been found seated astride the Iron Throne by the man, Jaime didn't believe he would ever not feel uncomfortable under the stare of the wolf. Holding Eddard's stare firmly, Jaime forced a smirk in the hopes it would rile him. "Is there something the matter, Lord Stark?" Family was the weakness of any man, Jaime knew… and that was Eddard Stark's.
The Northern lord stepped towards Jaime almost immediately once his daughter was far enough away from them, unable to contain his visible anger at the goad. He was practically seething when he finally spoke, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Keep away from my daughter." Jaime knew a warning when he heard one, and he wished he feared that one more than he actually thought of it - empty.
Shaking his head brilliant flaxen head of hair, Jaime flashed another smirk in his direction. "Oh, you have nothing to worry over..." He waved him off with an eye roll, reaching for Tyrion's long-forgotten cup and downing the last of its contents before stepping closer to Eddard. He had always been a betting man, and he was certain he could push Eddard to lash out if he tried a little harder. "She is very striking, odd for a Northerner."
Jaime wondered if Eddard Stark still had any fight left in him to do what Jaime knew he had wanted to do during Robert's Rebellion. Part of him also wondered if moving the Northern man to enough fury would result in a fight Jaime would take enjoyment in. "If you lay a hand on her, I'll do what I should have done all those years ago."
"Well, unfortunately for you we're going to be neighbours soon," Jaime sighed, his smirk never faltering for a single moment as he looked down his nose at Eddard. "I do hope it's true." Jaime also knew that the Hand of the King wasn't something the man had ever considered - he wasn't a political man and would only accept the position because Robert was a childhood friend. No matter, life in King's Landing would certainly be more entertaining for him. "It would mean we would be spending an awful lot of time together..." Jaime trailed off, watching as Eddard's eyes darted over to his daughter again.
Jaime followed his glance, his amusement piquing finally when Eliana and Tyrion settled on the same table that Stark's bastard son was seated at. If Eddard Stark did accept, which Jaime was certain he would, he was convinced he would go out of his way to anger the man over the subsequent fury he had already roused from the man over Eliana Stark. He would find victory in succeeding to anger the man over socialising with his daughter.
Folding his arms over his chest, Jaime tilted his head in question and looked back to Eddard. "I'm sure we'll have a tourney to celebrate your introduction into your new position if you accept," he taunted carefully, his eyes narrowing as he watched him. "It would be good to have you amongst the lists to play the field... the competition has become a bit stale as of late. There are few I've yet to toss into the dirt."
"I don't fight in tourneys, Kingslayer."
How could Ned Stark be so boring? Jaime found himself almost despairing at the man's reluctance to any adventure which he found ludicrous - more so, seeing as he was sure Robert would look to arrange one in his honour. "What a shame," Jaime chuckled lightly. "Getting a bit old for it?"
A part of him still idolised Eddard for everything he had achieved, for all he had achieved and built in his time as Lord of Winterfell but Jaime would never admit that to his face. "I don't fight in tourneys because when I fight a man for real, I don't want him to know what I can do," the Northern lord warned darkly, and Jaime straightened considerably as his words reached his ears.
He had made his decision then, despite a voice suggesting otherwise, that he would seek Eliana out and befriend her to move her father to exhaustion. That he would find enjoyment in.
"Well said."
The Armoury - Winterfell
BRAN
...
"There you are."
A loud groan left his lips when he heard Theon's voice a little distance from where he sat tucked up behind one of his mother's beloved tapestries that she had persuaded his father to mount on the armoury's stone entrance wall. It hung high enough that it was almost four times the height of Bran that he was certain that Theon couldn't see him.
He grumbled when he felt a sharp poke dealt to his stomach.
"That doesn't count."
Theon was smirking when he eventually appeared around the tapestry's edge. "Why not?" His arms were folded across his chest cockily as Bran crawled out with a scowl.
He hated playing with Theon; he either allowed him to win by forgetting to seek him out (the longest it had taken for Bran to realise, his mother was then seeking him out for supper) or made quick work of the game so he didn't have to play it again which altogether frustrated Bran. Because the King was in Winterfell, no one wanted to play with him.
Bran climbed to his feet and brushed his knees clean, eyeing Theon. "Because you couldn't actually see me, it doesn't count unless you can actually see me."
"I could see you just fine from where I was standing," Theon smirked, bending slightly to poke his stomach again before Bran could swat his hand away. "You've been eating too much, I thought your belly was the King's."
Sometimes he hated Theon.
"It doesn't count."
Theon scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Says who?"
"Says me!" Bran exclaimed, rushing towards the far wall to jump to clasp a wall scone and pull himself up to reach forward to set his left foot atop a decorative hook for the furthest corner of the tapestry. Bran looked back at Theon who was frowning now at him and with that, Bran pushed off to the closest suspended oak beam within the entrance hall and grimaced as he made contact, rolling so he pulled himself up onto it.
He laughed when he heard Theon swearing under his breath, moving towards where he was seated in the air to look up at him in frustration, although Bran was certain he could see a slight glimmer of amusement in Theon's eyes. "Come on, Bran - I promised you one game before the hunt with the King. Come down," he called up to him in annoyance.
"No," Bran looked over the beam and gave a strong shake of his head - if Theon wanted to go on the hunt, he would just delay him. "Not unless you come and get me."
The amusement in Theon's eyes all but disappeared then as he grew entirely serious. "I'm not coming up there, Bran," he replied plainly, his frown unmoving across his brow as he folded his arms over his chest again, inclining his head up at him. "Now, come down before your mother sees."
Bran chose to ignore his comment. "How did you find me so easily?"
"I know all the best places to hide around Winterfell..." Theon offered quietly, his eyes drifting about the hall fleetingly. "You're not the only one who likes to hide. Now, come on..."
Bran rested his chin over his palms and tilted his head at Theon, wondering what he meant by his comment before he smiled at him again. "You know, if you hate this game so much why do you agree to play it with me?"
Theon bit out a laugh, shaking his head as he glared up at him. "And have you run to tell your mother that I refused? I'd rather not face her." Theon gave a firm shake of his head and Bran's smile grew at his words.
All he would have to do would be to mention his mother and his father's ward would do anything... Bran knew that wasn't the case. Theon indulged him because he enjoyed it; Bran also guessed it was because he hadn't been able to play with his own siblings, Rodrik and Maron, as they were grown when the rebellion happened and had died during it. He also doubted that Theon's father was the type of man who allowed for play from what Maester Luwin had told him of the Iron Islands. Bran also knew that Theon would never admit that he enjoyed it either, he was too proud.
"I wouldn't do that, Theon."
The Ironborn shrugged at him in reply, "Maybe not," he offered with a bored look. "Let's go..."
Relenting finally, Bran sighed and nodded begrudgingly. He swung his legs over the edge and lowered himself until he felt Theon's hands clasp his sides and he let go, his feet meeting the ground safely beneath him. With a sigh, he turned to Theon as they moved towards the entrance door, "Why can't I come on the hunt?" Part of him was annoyed; his father had allowed him to accompany him to deal with the deserter from the Night's Watch but he was forbidden from attending the King's hunt. He didn't understand it and it certainly wasn't fair.
Theon ruffled his hair as they passed through the doorway, "You're too young."
"I'm not that young..." Bran found himself arguing as they entered the courtyard where attendees of the hunt were readying their mounts and gathering in waiting of the King; he couldn't see Robb or Jon anywhere and neither could he see his father. He almost spluttered in annoyance when he saw Joffrey atop his mount with the Hound. "Joffrey is only six and ten."
Theon smiled slightly and nodded, his eyes flickering over to where Bran had been looking. "And you're ten, that makes you too young..." he reasoned quietly, offering him an amused look before nodding towards the Hunter's Gate. "Unless you want to petition it to the King?"
Bran's followed his gaze and his eyes landed on the King who sat atop his destrier. Bran, no matter how he tried to convince himself otherwise, was disappointed with the King - his father had told him stories of a great war hero to be feared but the man he had once spoken of was fat and drank more than he ate.
Bran chose to ignore Theon's comment as they reached the stables where he guessed Theon wanted to ready himself, but he found himself confused as to why he was scared of his lady mother - she was stern but not scary. "Mother isn't that scary, by the way." Bran watched as Theon fastened his mare's bridle quickly before setting the saddle atop its back.
"Tell that to your sister," Theon quipped.
Following Theon's gaze, Bran saw his sister fast approaching wearing her leathers that made Bran's heart stop in an instant out of jealousy - had Lia been invited on the hunt? - but he suddenly looked closer and saw that she wasn't dressed for a hunt as her favoured practice sword was in her hand and the leathers she wore were for training not riding. A part of him, however, wondered if his sister had been asked to attend the hunt as he was sure that would have been an offer the King would have extended to her.
"Tell what to your sister?" Eliana looked between the pair of them as she came to a slow halt and Bran glanced at Theon to see him smirking again.
"The Little Lord here doesn't think your mother is scary."
Bran wanted to elbow him in his side or stamp on his toe out of sheer irritation but thought better of it with the King stood a little away from them.
Eliana laughed, looking over at him with a tight smile and sighing softly. "That's because you're her favourite, Bran."
That made Bran bristle - everyone always teased him that he was their mother's favourite child because she coddled him more than everyone else and always smothered him. He blew out a sigh in frustration - he never asked for her to treat him as such and if anything, he wished that she didn't treat him as such because he was beginning to weigh heavy on him. His siblings could get away with what they wanted or at least most things whereas he was continuously reprimanded by their mother (albeit she always claimed she was looking out for him).
Bran scowled at her, "No, I'm not."
Eliana continued to smile at him and he wanted to be annoyed at her and the truth in her words. "It's true and there's nothing wrong with that," she affirmed, chuckling before she tore her gaze away from his to look across the courtyard. Bran followed and saw that their father had emerged wearing his riding leathers, moving with purpose as he pulled his heavy mantle around his shoulders in one great haul, and walked towards them from where he had exited from the Great Keep.
"But you're father's."
Eliana tried to not grimace at her younger brother's admission, seeing the disappointment in his face as he said it with such conviction. She wished she wasn't, part of her always wished it was Robb as he was the heir. "That may be so but the important thing to remember is that both our parents love us unconditionally, fiercely." She moved to ruffle his head of russet hair affectionately, wondering to herself when his innocence would truly escape him... her sweet Bran. Sighing, Eliana set her palm on his shoulder and pulled him towards her when she saw the growing annoyance in Theon's grey eyes. "Now, let Theon go and join the hunt with the rest of the boys and you can play the afternoon away with Tommen, how does that sound?"
Bran merely screwed up his face at her but opted to say nothing in reply. Tommen was boring although he was grateful she didn't say Arya as she never played fairly.
He saw his sister send their father's ward what Bran thought was a pitiful look and it made him frown again. "Please don't tell me he had you playing with him all morning?" she asked Theon with a sigh as he clambered up onto his destrier.
Shifting in the saddle, Theon smirked. "Of course, he did."
"I did not!" Bran exclaimed, unable to stop himself which made both Eliana and Theon laugh again.
"Oh, your poor fool..." Eliana continued to laugh, "how many times did you lose?"
Theon rolled his eyes, "Enough. He didn't want to play with the Baratheon boy so, as your father's ward, it fell to me." He moved his mare off slowly and together, they made towards the Hunter's Gate to see that the hunting party had almost doubled in size within the last couple of minutes alone.
Eliana was still laughing when their father finally came to stop before them, a fond look crossing his face as Theon still laughed as he moved to where Robb was waiting, leaving Bran alone with his father and sister.
Eliana sobered quickly, offering their father a small smile. "We'll see you when you return."
Bran saw his father nod, "Think on what we spoke about, Lia," he replied, looking as though he wanted to say more which intrigued Bran's curiosity. He glanced between them excitedly. "I will need an answer from you."
His sister's smile had become strained, "Yes, father."
Feeling his excitement getting the better of him, Bran's leaned towards her as Jory approached with his father's favoured destrier and whispered, "What does that mean, Lia?"
His father looked at him then and a thoughtful look crossed his face before he climbed atop his mount and took the reins from Jory; Bran looked back to his sister who was smiling a true smile. "Don't worry about it, Bran," she shook her head softly, her hand falling to his shoulder.
"But I want to know," he persisted, not liking how confused he felt.
"You will," Eliana promised firmly before glancing back at their father steadily. "We'll see you this evening."
Their lord father nodded and held Bran's gaze for a moment before he eventually looked back to Eliana. "Don't let him climb anything else, or your mother will have a fit."
Eliana sighed but nodded all the same, "And don't we know it," she affirmed and Bran rolled his eyes.
"Do you promise me, Bran?"
His eyes whipped upwards to meet the steady gaze that belonged to his father and he almost gulped before he was able to right himself and nod at his father. "I promise, father," Bran eventually said and he hoped he was satisfied with his answer.
Their father bowed his head and turned his horse to make towards the Hunter's Gate, leaving the pair of them standing there to watch the hunting party begin to exit through the raised gate. His sister lingered a few moments before she turned to move off towards the kennels to make her way to the Godswood he guessed.
Bran could feel the questions buzzing around his head at how ominous they had just been. "Lia!" he chased after her immediately, reaching her measured strides in no time at all. "When do you think Rodrik will let me practice with live steel?" That wasn't what he really wanted to ask but he doubted she would disclose anything else to him.
Eliana sent him a small smile, "When Rodrik decides you're ready."
"But I want to be a knight of the Kingsguard."
Her smile only widened, "And you will be," she reassured him with a chuckle. "Kings may come and go but the Kingsguard will remain."
They were silent for a long moment as they approached the kennels together and Bran wondered if his father would be making her marry soon and when would she leave them or whether she would join them in King's Landing for a time - so many thoughts were going around his head, he could barely contain himself.
He felt her eyes on him then, "What is it, Bran?"
His sister sounded curious or maybe she had gained the ability to read minds on her travels and she knew exactly what he was thinking. He coughed to clear his throat, turning to look at her briefly. "Are you worried because father wants you to marry?" He hadn't realised how blunt the question was until he had said it but it roused a chuckle from Eliana all the same.
Her smile, he noticed, didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's expected of me and it will be the same for Sansa and Arya."
Bran frowned, "I don't want you to ever leave Winterfell," he admitted sullenly.
"I don't want to leave either. But it isn't my choice." She slowed, frowning in thought as they strolled through the kennels together as though she wasn't sure what she wanted either. She definitely didn't seem as pleased to be soon married as Sansa was, Bran decided. "Martell, Tyrell, Baratheon... whatever father decides for me, I will do until I can do no more."
"But what if you don't like him?" Bran asked.
Eliana stopped properly that time, turning fully to look at him with a patient glance and her hand fell to his shoulder once again. "Hopefully, I'd grow to like him," she explained with a shrug and Bran wondered if she would ever truly be happily married to someone she didn't know and away from them. He didn't have a chance to ask her as she was already changing the subject and it only brought Bran to the silent agreement that she didn't want to marry either. "Go find Tommen, I'm sure he could use a friend."
Bran rolled his eyes blatantly.
Eliana gave him a pointed look and he sighed before he eventually nodded.
His sister bent quickly, pressing her lips to his forehead and he smiled, turning on his heel before running back down through the kennels back towards the courtyard. "Go careful, Bran!" he thought he heard her call after him but he was too far away to be certain as he glanced towards the Guest House where he guessed Tommen was.
He stuttered in his running and came to a halt and frowned. He didn't want to play with Tommen, they couldn't even practice with swords as the prince was too slow and was no challenge for him that if he hit him too hard, he would start to cry. Bran sighed and glanced towards the Bell Tower until a smile slowly began to grow across his lips.
Somewhere in the back of his head he could hear his father's words floating around in the back of his mind, no climbing... promise me... but there was nothing else to do. Bran tilted his head and regarded the tower for a moment, taking in its height before reaching his conclusion.
Something wet met the back of his palm suddenly and he glanced down to see a pair of glowering golden eyes watching him like a hawk with a silvery mop of a tail wagging excitedly, her tongue licking his skin in affection as he led her towards the tower that had captured his attention.
"It's not that tall, Summer," Bran whispered to his direwolf as they approached the tower together, his eyes scanning the stone for a path upwards. "I won't tell anyone if you don't."
The direwolf pup barked in response and Bran laughed.
"Keep watch, will you."
Bran grinned, pushing his foot into the open groove and hooked his right heel up onto a protruding stone and ascended.
NOTES:
Next chapter preview - Hraeddr:
The aftermath of Bran's fall leaves everyone worried; Ned is propositioned by Robert over the future of their Houses and Eliana is convinced that Bran was pushed from a great height. Jaime becomes suspicious. Eddard asks Eliana to make her choice and discloses a secret that he has kept from everyone to sway her decision.
