Welcome to my House of the Dragon fanfiction! I didn't feel like posting it in the book section, so I'm here. I'll move it if I have to later.

For those of you familiar with my other work, A Vow Without Honor, I don't plan on writing this story in the same manner. That is a huge commitment I can do without. (However, this is very much my 172 years before Myra Stark OC).

For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, welcome! Ignore everything I've said, and please enjoy!

"I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it."
- Sylvia Plath

Chapter One
A Violent Beginning

She dreamt of a fire so vast it consumed the world. The great castles of her forebears caught ablaze and melted before the intense heat. All else turned to ash before her eyes, caught up in a storm of wind and thunder until it left her alone amidst a barren landscape.

The flames had licked her skin, but their touch was warm and gentle, and left her unspoiled before the destruction. She wept to be taken too, for what was survival in a world with nothing remaining, but there was not a soul left to hear her pleas.

Elyse Stark awoke to the familiar sensation of a ship in motion, rocking her cabin gently as it crept down the length of Blackwater Bay. The hull creaked softly, and little baubles left unattended rolled about the floor. Overhead, a necklace swayed from the wooden beam she'd tied it to. It was a simple construction, centered on a small, white rock that took on no particular appearance, but her eyes kept locked on it nonetheless.

She'd had the dream for three straight days, ever since they'd first spied Dragonstone on the horizon, but Elyse did not believe in superstitious nonsense. A dream was a dream and little else. She only wished it would leave her be so she could have a restful night's sleep for once.

Sitting up, she grabbed her necklace from its home and dressed for the day. It was neither a long nor difficult transition. She had worn the same dress for nearly a week, worried that the sea water might destroy anything else in her possession. It was not as if the sailors cared much. If any of them had another shirt to their name, she had yet to witness it.

Ser Medrick grinned at her when she finally emerged from the sanctuary of her cabin, and she nearly turned back around in response.

"It's nearly midday, my lady. Any longer, and I may have gone to rouse you myself," he spoke as they walked along the deck of the Harbor Lady. She was the swiftest ship that docked at White Harbor, proudly bearing the standard of House Manderly, as well as a mermaid at its prow, a trident in her slender grip. The only reason Elyse had been granted passage for her folly on such a magnificent ship was due to the man beside her.

Medrick Manderly was the eldest son of Lord Desmond, and heir to his title. Though only three years her senior, he was well over a head taller than her and sported a dark, bushy beard that aged him, along with the tanned skin of a man unaccustomed to a life spent indoors. He was one of the few knights the North possessed, as House Manderly still worshiped the Seven. His father had boasted that he was one of the most skilled fighters they had as well, though Elyse had yet to witness his supposed prowess.

Elyse knew that for Ser Medrick, his duty to escort her would also be a chance for courting. Their fathers had long entertained the notion of their betrothal, yet her father had yet to give his blessing. It seemed Lord Desmond had grown impatient, and hoped that his son's charms would win the wayward Stark daughter over.

"Rouse me for what?" Elyse asked, crossing her arms on the railing. "Another thrilling view of the sea? The riveting sight of trees? I should have traveled to King's Landing on horseback."

"Your journey would have been longer."

"But at least I would have had something to do."

She'd read all her books twice over, and written all the letters she could muster, but without taking to port, she had no way to send them, so they remained tucked away in a lockbox. Most would undoubtedly go unsent, unless she wanted Sara to read about her sister slowly falling into the depths of madness.

Elyse tugged at the stone necklace now resting on her chest.

There was a shout, and the deck suddenly teemed with life, with sailors running back and forth in both parts excitement and fear. Elyse looked up at her guard, but Medrick merely shrugged, just as confused as she was.

And then she heard it, a cry across the water that shook her very bones.

As a child of the North, Elyse had only ever heard tales of the Targaryens and their monstrous mounts, for the houses beyond the Neck weren't inclined to leave their isolated halls save for under pain of death. She and her people were a world away from the dynasty that ruled them, and their dragons may as well have only existed in story and song.

But the beast that appeared was no mummer's tale.

It flew above them, its wings of leather beating an extra gust of wind into their sails that made the ship rock violently, and her hair fly haphazardly across her face. The creature was long and narrow, more like a serpent she'd spied once as a child, with smaller wings protruding from its hind legs, but it was longer than their entire ship, and passed by almost in an instant. Elyse briefly caught a shock of white hair against the red scales as it disappeared toward the horizon.

Without hesitation, Elyse jumped onto the rail, clinging to the ship's ropes as she leaned outward, straining to see the dragon again even as it became a mere speck in the sky. Medrick had to firmly, but gently, pull her back onto the safety of the ship deck.

"That was…it was…that was a…"

Elyse couldn't bring herself to say the word as she looked at Medrick, a silly, childish smile growing on her face.

"A dragon, my lady," a man called out behind her. Elyse turned to the captain of the ship, a man with no hair to speak of and skin so sun-kissed it had turned to leather itself, but his eyes bore nothing but kindness, and a twinge of mischief. "Caraxes is his name. He belongs to Daemon Targaryen, and if we're lucky, the wayward prince won't have burned the city down before we've arrived."

She ought to have asked what he meant, or why Medrick had yet to comment on the matter, but Elyse was far too caught up in the whims of childlike wonder to care. In the end, she spent the rest of the day sitting at the prow of the ship, waiting for another glance at the impossible.

Do you know what you're asking of me? I'd sooner feed you to the wolves than send mine own daughter to that wretched place.

Her father's words echoed across the streets of King's Landing as her carriage rolled slowly over the cobbled streets. She could hear him shout from every alleyway, and witnessed his indignation in the eyes of every citizen who looked her way. They watched her from cracked windows and doors, and tightly packed groups that whispered gossips she'd never hear. Their scrutiny clawed at a fear in the back of her mind, and had her drawing away from the windows, pulling the curtains in place to leave her in peace.

Their luck had held up, and the city still stood when they had arrived two days later, for whatever it was worth, but she and Ser Medrick had been quickly escorted to the carriage from the ship. She'd barely glanced at the rolling hills filled with naught but brick and stone, and the Targaryen banners that blew endlessly across the rooftops.

Winter Town was the city she had known growing up, and it was nearly abandoned. The homes of log and brick and muddied streets were filled to the brim when the harsh winter months bore down on the North, but Elyse had only known spring and summer, when the people stayed in their fields and tended to their crops. Only once had she seen those streets teeming with life: on the nameday celebration of her baby brother, Cregan, when lords and smallfolk alike drunkenly danced in the squares before Winterfell's gates.

White Harbor had left her in awe, and it paled next to this place.

Hundreds of thousands were packed into the capital city, the entirety of the North's population all crammed into a space no bigger than the open fields she could see from her home. It was a wonder to her that there was space to move at all, yet their carriage made its way through the streets unimpeded, save for the occasional 'make way!' from the city guards they'd been assigned.

Elyse had told herself she was doing the right thing by coming to this place, but if the smallfolk intimidated her so, how could she expect to survive a confrontation with those who ruled over them?

She tugged at the necklace.

"It is a strange piece of jewelry," Ser Medrick said. He sat across from her, having donned his fine plate armor. His surcoat bore the trident wielding merman that represented his house, a green figure surrounded by a sea of blue. If she looked closely, Elyse would have seen small tridents and waves etched into the edges of his gorget and pauldrons.

"It is an even stranger helm," Elyse replied, eying the piece of armor sat beside him. A trident jutted up from the nose guard, edges sharpened so that they might kill a man if need be. He gave her an annoyed look she'd come to know well on their journey, but did not comment on her retort.

"Who gave it to you, if I may ask?"

She wondered if he was genuinely interested, or if this was simply a means of filling the silence.

Her hand tightened around the stone, shielding it from his prying eyes. "My sister."

"Your…sister," he said slowly. Elyse glared at him, and Medrick sheepishly looked away. She knew how he wished to fill the space between.

Bastard.

Elyse let the necklace go, the white stone nestling amongst the silver direwolves hemmed into her dress, pawing at an unseen enemy.

They were spared the unbearable silence by the carriage as it came to a sudden halt. No one informed them that they had arrived at the Red Keep; no one said anything. Curious, Elyse began to draw the curtain back, but Medrick quickly grabbed her wrist and shook his head.

She watched as the knight quickly looked behind him, out the small window that would have given him access to the coachmen

"A cart is blocking the street, and our escort…"

"What about them?" Elyse asked, sitting up. She misliked how still he had become, or how deeply her heart began to thump in her chest. "Medrick?"

Elyse briefly glanced a terror in his eyes before he rushed at her, pulling her onto the floor of the carriage. Not a moment later, something crashed through the screen, eliciting a shriek from Elyse as Medrick scrambled to cover her.

The object that had broken into their little sanctuary was a brick wrapped in a dark cloth. It had been set ablaze, and the instant it made contact with the carriage, the curtains caught fire, a bright, roaring wall of light that she squinted to see.

"Medrick!" Elyse screamed, scrambling to stand in the small space as the knight pulled her up.

But the knight had calmed, grabbing her firmly by the wrist, and looking at her with somber eyes that might have belonged to her father.

"Stay behind me," he said, donning his helm. It did not look so silly now. "Keep the carriage at your back. I will get you out of this."

He turned to the door, and kicked it with a grunt. Wood splintered as the door broke free from its hinges and crashed into the street, but not before taking out a man who had stood directly in its path.

Ser Medrick unsheathed his sword as he leapt out of the carriage, cutting down the next man who dared to step forward with ease, a blade through water rather than flesh. Elyse stumbled out behind him, feeling the heat at her back as she clung to his surcoat, her eyes fixated on the bloody mess he had created.

Five more men stood before them at the ready, neither knights nor sellswords. They were common folk in ill-fitting clothes, dirty and malnourished. They would never stand a chance against a man like Ser Medrick, but their eyes were bright, hearkening to feral beasts she'd encountered in the Wolfswood.

"Take leave of us, and your lives will be spared!" Medrick called out to them. He held his sword at the ready, a steady line of blood flowing down its blade. On the third day of their journey, he'd confessed to naming it Storm's Eye, and how she'd mocked him for it. "No harm will come to you or yours, so long as you walk away!"

Elyse desperately looked for the guards that had accompanied them, but their horses were gone. Had they led them to their end?

Another man attempted to rush Medrick, and Storm's Eye opened up his neck. Blood gushed outward in spurts. She felt droplets land upon her cheek, warm as the summer's rain.

Everything fell still. The men no longer moved closer, wary, but they were not about to give up the hunt. There was a determination in their eyes that nothing but death or victory would vanquish, and Elyse feared she knew which they were going to encounter.

She clutched Medrick's surcoat until her knuckles threatened to burst through her skin, heard the shaking of his breath, felt the pounding of her heart in her ears, her throat, her fingertips, and ever still the fire that burned behind them, threatening to take her life before the cutthroats in front of them.

But the moment did not last long, for while the coachmen had disappeared, the horses that drew the carriage had not. Panicked by the growing flames behind them, they stormed forward, pulling the carriage, and what little safety she'd been provided, away as they crashed through the cart that had served as their roadblock.

More men stood behind them, six or seven maybe. It may as well have been one hundred.

"Medrick," she whispered, and the knight turned about, offering his blade to the newcomers as well.

He brought her forward, and she clung to his breastplate as he wrapped his arm around her. He could not fight like this, she knew. Medrick could fight or he could protect her, but no man could accomplish both.

"Take the dagger on my belt," he spoke quietly, eyes dancing. He turned them constantly, waiting for the first to make a move. "When I open a path, run."

"Medrick, no, I can't," she pleaded, even as her shaking hand moved to grip the ivory hilt at his waist. A gift from a merchant out of Volantis, he'd told her. He had many gifts from places he'd never seen.

A man rushed, and then another, until they all converged on them at once.

With a roar, Medrick swung his sword in a wide arc, cutting down four men in an instant, before shoved her forward with his free arm.

She ran.

Barely missing the fresh bodies that littered the ground, Elyse flung herself toward the closest alleyway, panting and crying as she rounded corners that led to deeper and quieter parts of King's Landing. Her feet echoed against the cobblestones, the only thing she heard in a city where half a million souls lived.

Every door and window that once opened to pay witness to her arrival was shut now, as if the city itself conspired against her. There would be no sanctuary found amongst the smallfolk. She would either find guards, or she would die.

Elyse began to pound on those doors and windows, shouting and screaming for anyone who could hear. They would know what they had let happen. Let her screams haunt their nightmares.

She rounded a corner too quickly, and crashed into a man. It was a face she knew. In the brief moments they'd been cornered, their faces had been etched into her memory, and his pox-marred face stood out to her well.

The dagger in her grip forgotten, Elyse tried to flee back the way she came. His hand reached out for her, fingers managing to grasp her necklace. She felt the tug of the chain as it broke against her skin, and something snapped in the back of her mind.

Men are vile creatures, Elyse. I want you to remember that.

Elyse fled back the way she came, turning corner after corner, hoping to find the streets empty and her path unimpeded. Her lungs burned and her vision was clouded by tears, but she continued forward. She had to. There had to be a way out.

When she turned into a courtyard with no exit, a cry escaped her lips. She attempted to return the way she came, but there were shouts on either end of the street, and distant figures rounding the corners.

She backed away from the entrance, Medrick's dagger held out in front of her as if it could truly do anything to save her. Her hands wavered and shook, threatening to drop it at any moment.

What had they done to him?

Out of the corner of her eye, Elyse spotted green, and turned to a cluster of vines growing up from small pots onto a trellis. They wound their way around the wood, reaching slowly for an open window on the second floor.

She might have laughed.

Elyse reached out for the trellis, briefly testing her weight before beginning her ascent. The piece was not well made, shaking greatly under the strain and convincing Elyse that it would dump her back onto the cobblestones if she made the slightest move out of place. One of her shoes slipped off and fell.

Somehow, dagger in hand, Elyse managed to make her way to the top, grabbing at the windowsill as men flooded into the courtyard. They shouted at her as she kicked the trellis away and tumbled inside.

She fell onto cushions and blankets, a world softer than she imagined. Despite the open window, the room was dark, though she spied burning candles in distant corners. It smelled of spices and perfumes that chased away the stench of the city it resided in, foreign and unfamiliar to her, but pleasant to the senses nonetheless.

Elyse allowed herself a moment to lie on the ground, enjoying the respite. The men below might very well be breaking into the building as she did so, but for this one brief moment of time, she would pretend that she was safe.

"When I said I wanted a little more excitement, I hadn't meant how the whores make their entrances."

Scrambling off the floor, Elyse held the dagger out again, waiting for an attack. What she did not expect to find was a naked man staring at her.

A very naked man.

He was lean and tall, towering over her even from the distance between them. His skin was as pale and fair as the hair that flowed from his scalp, with wisps of silver that glowed in the candlelight. Violet eyes watched her, dark and amused, as a smirk threatened to overtake his features.

"Do you plan on using that? I am unarmed after all," he continued, ambling toward her, hands raised. The smirk finally won out. "Well, mostly."

Elyse did not say anything. She could not. All her words had been chased away, lost and forgotten in the streets of King's Landing. Silence was all that met the man as he drew closer to her and the shaking dagger in her grip.

She might have stabbed him then, pushed the blade through his skin as easily as Medrick had done. Men were such fragile things in that manner. But her body remained still, eyes locked on him.

He stopped just before skewing himself on it, although with every breath, his skin might have tickled its surface. She might have scratched him for all her shaking, but she could not say. Those violet eyes were the only things in her vision.

"If you're going to do it, you had better commit," he spoke softly. She gasped as he grabbed her wrists, his one hand covering both easily. He bent them downwards, leaving her hands tipped up, the tip of the dagger just short of his ribcage. "Straight into the heart. But you'd better do it quickly. If I live, I'll kill you."

His words circled about in her mind, never quite sticking. She struggled to latch onto even one of them, hoping for meaning. Those eyes told her nothing. There was neither anger nor hatred, neither glee nor despair. They were empty of anything, a void she could not comprehend.

Rapid footsteps echoed to their right. Out of the corner of her eye, someone rushed into the room, but the man's other hand lifted quickly, stopping them.

"Choose."

The dagger clattered to the ground.

Releasing his grip, the man turned away from her, grabbing a blanket that rested on the pillows beneath the window. He wrapped it modestly about himself as she fell to the floor, her strength utterly spent.

Had Elyse known then the course of events that would transpire after that moment, perhaps she would have done as he said.

.

.

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So, a rather quick and violent opening. The story definitely slows down for more character development after this, much like the show. Everything I've hinted at will be revealed, and we'll get a good look at Elyse as a person.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it. Feel free to let me know if there's anything that I can improve.

Until next time!