Risen From Ashes

by snowflake2410

House Pyralis, Relatives to the Targaryens. Just as House Reyne, every Pyralis has been turned into nothing but mere ash and memory. All except one. Ophelia never knew who she was but when is revealed as the last Pyralis, she is soon thrust into a new world of deceit and limitations. As the saying goes: You can try to burn a Phoenix, but they always manage to survive.

19. Chapter 19

Hi guys! So...this chapter is huge. Kind of a twist. Be prepared. If you need to, reread the first several chapters of the story. Thank you for all of your reviews. The response to Ophelia's party was awesome. And can I just say, WOW! 100 FAVORITES AND 137 FOLLOWS AND 92 REVIEWS! I feel like the luckiest girl alive! Thank you so much! Your feedback to my story and your dedication as readers is what keeps me going. Even the same reviews like 'Great chapter!' Make my day! :)

Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing but House Pyralis and the OC's I make up.

Unknown P.O.V.

I woke up injured.

I don't know what happened, one minute I was protecting her, the next, I was gone.

Last I heard, she was screaming my name.

I didn't know how long I had been out.

Seconds?

Minutes?

Hours?

Feeling panic, I tried to sit up but had groaned in pain of my injury instead. Slowly, I came upright from my sprawling position on the ground. I needed to find her. I had to keep my promise to protect and serve. I was bound by oath. He wanted me to protect them both, he even named me as such.

I drew a ragged breath as I felt the blood from my wound seep out under my armor and wet my shirt. I needed to get to her.

I looked all around me, seeing no one but the ash from burning villages and the grey clouds from the smoke.

I had to find her, she needed to raise her house from it's desolation. The fate of it rested upon her shoulders.

I grabbed a thicket of branches closest to me, and with a heave, I hoisted myself up.

I don't know how I survived so far (or even why) but whoever was up there and watching me had to have some sort of plan in motion. People like me, the low-borns, didn't just survive wounds like this for no reason. I staggered forward, and fell to the base of a tree.

If I was going to find her, I had to get rid of my armor. It was bittersweet, this solution, but it had to be done.

He had given me this as present.

It was right after his first wedding, to that lithe Sothroyos girl, when he clapped me on the back and said in a teasing voice, "Stickler, my friend, you are quite a bore, but I won't complain. Someone needs to keep me in place." That's when he handed me my armor. Seeing my shocked face, he said, "You saved me from a Wyvern. I owe you my life as does my future children, and the future of my House. A proper protector needs proper armor." I was surprised because he had given me such a fine gift. Though I should have known that he would have put a gag on it.

Embedded into the metal work was a phoenix carrying a flower, which was a poppy I think.

This stemmed from a joke made by Eddard Stark, that if I were to ever have a House of my own, it would be a phoenix...with a flower.

I yelped out in pain as I single-handedly (and I do mean this in every sense of the word) removed my armor, piece by piece. I put it in a pile, was now only in my trousers, boots, and shirt. I ripped the middle section of my shirt off, and did my best to tie up the wound. I walked at an aggravatingly slow pace to where she was abducted. I saw the tracks, and decided to follow.

Damn sons of whores.

They stole my weapon and the money he had given me to get her away from this madness.

If- no, when I found her, I would stall just a little bit.

Find a place to hole up in, until the constant presence of soldiers became scarce. Only then, would it be safe to move her.

During this time, maybe I could find Analia.

I made a promise to protect her, but what of the other ones?

His uncle? His cousin?

Those three were the only ones left, and if I did not find her in time, the third would have little to no chance of meeting the outside world.

Analia.

Analia.

Analia.

She kept me alive.

She was the fire that stowed the embers of my heart, igniting the blaze to broaden upon the grassy horizons of my soul.

She was my everything and more.

Her smile.

Her gentleness.

Her giving nature.

I had no reason to live in a world without her.

Before this had started, I had cause to marry her.

I hadn't told her this, for fear of rejection, though I did tell her father.

He thought I was trying to rise above my station, trying to obtain lands from him and steal his last 'bartering piece' for the sake of a title.

Not for any lands nor her title was my intent to wed, but for her. Only her.

How could others be so blind, to not see such a vivacious sunlight emitting from one person? If I had not made a vow, I would have found her first, protected her. She was incapable of doing it herself, while her sister could fight off thousands at a time if she had willed it enough.

While others had hands to kill, Analia had hands to heal. She was the true essence of what a Phoenix was.

Dragons destroy, but the Phoenixheal.

They are the gatekeepers to the realm of animals, rulers of the natural kingdom.

In the animal world, even the mighty Dragons bow before the everlasting majesty of the Phoenix.

I squeezed my eyes tightly.

I had to find her. I never told her...how much I loved her.

As I trekked on my journey, I came to the side of the road to let some Lannister soldiers pass on by.

When they saw me, they slowed down and to a stop.

"Oi you!" called the first one upon a white horse. "Where you goin'?"

I turned to them and said in my most desperate voice, "Please! I am from Lannisport, and a solider for Lord Tywin Lannister." Of course this wasn't true, as I was raised right here in the Reach, but they would never know. Lying was amongst my greatest skills.

"Where'd your armor go?" asked the other one.

"I was ambushed by some deserters. They took everything of mine, save for the clothes off my back and the boots off my feet." I turned to the side and let go of my wound to show them what their fellow soldiers did to me. "They gave me a parting gift, see here? I thought I was dead, but thank the Mother, I awoke."

While solider number one gave me a pitiful look, the other one seemed a bit more skeptical. "Funny. You don't sound like you're from Lannisport." "I served House Lanny since I was a young boy. They did not care much for unrefinement, so I had to educate myself to talk properly. "Well, if you're from Lannisport, what are the three main roads that meet there?"

I was a bit confused. "Roads?" I repeated.

The first one spit down some phlegm on the forest floor and nodded.

"Let's see...uh...there's the river road..and uh, the, uh ocean road...and the...the...the golden...road?" I did my best to sound frightened and humbled. They bought it and the first one hopped down from his horse, giving me a reluctant smile.

"Sorry 'bout that, mate. But with all sorts of scavengers around, you can't be too careful." The man came closer and inspected my shoulder.

"Damn...those fuckers really had you on by surprise didn't they?"

"Yeah..."

He went to his saddle and took out some clean cloth and a bottle of rum. "It's not much, but it'll do."

I gave him a thankful look as he ripped my shirt off and started to clean my wound. The second one gave out an exasperated sigh and hopped down from his horse, tying the reins of both beasts to a low branch of a nearby tree. "Oi, Henrick! You think we'll go to Kings Landing next?"

The man cleaning ny shoulder stayed focused and answered, "Probably not. Lord Tywin has all of the men he needs at the moment. We're probably goin' to be sent back home any day now."

Hissing as he worked on cleaning the deep wound, I asked Henrick, "What happened here? I was on my way to Highgarden when the ambush happened."

The second man piped up from the log he was sitting on. "Several groups from different armies invaded here, ours included."

Clenching my teeth, I ground out, "What of the Lords of this place? They put up a good fight."

Henrick snorted as he put down the rum. "Barely. A few stragglers here and there, but it was mostly empty."

I gave out a weak false laugh and said, "Tell me you at least got the head of the Lord here."

Herrick shook his head as he focused on wrapping me up. "'Pparently he already died in battle."

I felt a new wave of guilt and grief wash over me as I remembered witnessing the brutal beheading of my friend from a distance. "That's horrible...now what story are they to sing of you in songs?"

Both men burst into laughter. "None, I suppose." Said Henrick, going behind me to continue wrapping me up.

"Some soldier did catch the Lady of the castle."

I had to use every strength within me to not jerk up and become frantic in my questions. "Huh...And is her head mounted on a spike?" I asked cautiously.

The second one shrugged. "Don't know. This was 'bout a day and a half ago, when I first heard. Guess she was captured and such. Heard a rumor that she won't be killed though. Henrick here know more why she won't be killed, though."

"She won't be killed because she's a woman?" I asked.

"Because she's a traitor." Stated Henrick. He tied up the cloth and came around in front of me, inspecting his work. "Not the best, but until you get a Maester to look at it, it'll have to do."

The second one cane over and handed me a shirt. "Sorry, mate." He looked sheepish as he apologized. "It's my only spare one, but it ain't clean. Better than your old one."

"Thank you." I told him gratefully, wincing as I slipped it on. As I was carefully putting my injured arm through the sleeve, I asked, "You said the woman was a traitor. Who did she betray?"

Henrick was adjusting his saddle when he turned his blonde head towards me. His eyes scanned the perimeter, before he let his guard down. "I don't care if someone fights on one side or another. 'Specially women. But if you choose a side, you best stay loyal to it, or all the fighting would have been for nothin'."

"And what does this have to do with the Lady?"

Henrick looked around to make sure it was safe before he said in a low voice, "So...you know the Targaryens, eh?"

"Well, not personally." I lied. Of course I knew the Targaryens.

He leaned in towards my direction and said in a lowered voice, "'Pparently the Prince and Princess from the Mad King are still alive."

I feigned shock. "What?! No! But how?"

Henrick, looking smug that he knew a confidential piece of information (yet the second one looked mildly unsurprised, probably hearing this for the second time), and he stood up straight and shrugged his shoulders. "Can't say. But the Lady of this castle right here knew where they were...and she told King Robert!"

I felt my stomach drop to the floor.

I felt the air become tense.

I felt my throat become dyer than a Dornish Desert.

"She did what?" I asked in low voice.

"See! That's what I mean, mate. Even if you are on one side of a war, you best be stickin' to that side. The Gods don't look at disloyalty too fondly."

This information hit me like an arrow to the chest.

She had betrayed us.

All of us.

Her husband, my oldest friend, had given his life for the sake of his family-for her, for Rhaegar, for their unborn child. He had known that the day that he was going to confront Ned Stark in combat, would be the day that he might not ever come back. He had made me promise that if anything were to happen to him, to protect his wife, for she was just as dedicated to the family as he was.

Well, the moment she threw her loyalty out the window, was the moment my promise was broken.

"And were there others?" The second one had gotten some jerky from the side saddle of his horse and sat back down the log.

"Nah. The King ordered the execution of all her family members, 'cept for her course."

I had to sit down.

Analia.

No...

No...

No...

NO!

She was innocent. Analia was different. She was kind and good. What harm could she have done, being confined to a wheelchair? She was different...why her?

Dropping to my knees instead, I couldn't help myself. I felt the tears do down my face, cutting clear paths in the dirt and grime that was caked onto my skin.

"Oi...mate! What's gotten into you?"

I didn't answer him.

What was the point?

What was the point of carrying on and living?

She was gone.

She died never knowing the extent of my affections for her.

I didn't answer and there was a moment of silence before Henrick said in a soft voice, "I 'eard that Lady is prolly goin' North...to the Starks or somethin' like that. She's goin' to give birth there."

"Who the fuck cares?" The second soldier had his cheeks stuffed with jerky and was spitting out bits as he spoke.

I took a look at Henrick, who was uneasy as he shifted his brown-eyed gaze from his friend to me. For a brief second, he gave me a strange sort of look before saying, "Don't care nothin'. But if I had betrayed my side for the sake of a child, I would bargain for a better deal."

"What do you mean?" I asked in a gruff voice, wiping my tears with the palms of my hands. Both the soldiers probably thought I had broke down due to my shoulder wound, but neither said anything.

"Yeah, and how do you know all of this? You never told me that." The second one swallowed his food and leaned in closely. Henrick gave up trying to keep it a secret as he gave out a loud sigh and sat on the ground. "Garrick, remember how the other day our commander 'ad me go deliver a letter? I went to the campsite and delivered it. When I was leaving, I passed by the tent of the Lady and 'eard everything."

The second soldier, whose name I now knew was Garrick, sat back. "That explains why you knew what you did!"

"Yeah...the Lady said she would be gladly executed, save for her baby who is goin' to be safe and taken care of by the Starks."

The baby.

His baby.

She didn't want to stay loyal...fine.

But her baby...well, he had always said children were innocent.

Fuck her.

Now, I wouldn't give that bitch water even if she were on fire (though I'm sure that's not an issue for her)...but her child...his child.

I will find a way to get them to safety.

"A-and what about her?" I inquired curiously. "How long does she have?"

Henrick shrugged. "Don't know. Guess she is gonna die sometime after the babe is birthed."

Garrick hit Henrick on his shoulder as he sat up straight and said, "Henrick, you never finished telling me before we came across this lad, but what did your wife have?"

Henrick's face lit up as he said, "Marietta had a boy, several months back. He's braw and healthy."

Garrick laughed. "That's good. Maybe he can help you out on the boat once he's older."

"Boat?" I was now confused at the turn of this conversation.

Garrick let out a hearty laugh, the delight radiating from his dark blue eyes. "Yeah. Bet you didn't know that this one-", he swung his arm over Henrick's shoulder and pinched his cheeks-", is a fisherman." Henrick rolled his eyes and shoved Garrick off of him.

"Yeah, I am. At least I'm not a baker though."

I was weary of these men at first, probably due to my time fighting in the war and my already present distaste for anyone wearing Lannister colors, but the more time I spent with them, the more I realized that in the barest essence, these men were me.

Low-born.

Commoners.

What my best friend had called the back and soul of Westeros.

We shed our blood for the game that rich Lords' played.

Garrick looked at me, still smiling. "And you? What do you do?"

"Groundskeeper." I answered without a beat. This was a half truth. I did do this...before I set off to explore the world.

Henrick looked thoughtful for a moment before he said, "You know, I don't got much at home, but ever since my father died, I have needed help."

"Oh no!" Groaned Garrick as he put his hands in his head. "He's trying to rope you in as he did me."

"I couldn't pay you much, barely any, but you could learn the trade and go off on your own. Want to help?"

Learn the trade?

How could I think about something like this before I have even had the chance to grieve properly.

However...this could be a distraction.

Analia...she couldn't be dead.

I was in denial...and the more I put off grieving, the less time I had to think of her.

It would also give me time to gather funds and to make a plan to get the child from the Starks.

A shot of pain went through my shoulder, and I clutched it.

I gave Henrick a grateful look as I said, "I would like that.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

The two friends had helped me onto Garricks horse. When we came to their campsite, a train of men were already leaving.

Henrick was right. They would be sent home any day and that day was it.

Both men kept me company with their witty banter and comedic antics. We, along with about forty other men, made our way to Lannisport. One of the towns on the way there had a Maester, who checked my wound and gave me some salve for it,, and a tonic in case I had gotten any fevers. The old man had no qualms helping out the warriors who fought the war.

The night before we arrived at Lannisport, the men were asleep at our makeshift campsite. i was in the woods, taking a walk as I could not sleep.

That's when Henrick approached me with a solemn look on his face. "You're not from Lannisport...are you?" He asked in a quiet voice.

Hesitantly, I nodded.

"You fight for the Targaryens?"

I turned my head towards him and said, "No. I have and always will fight for the name Pyralis." I was not a Pyralis, nor would I ever be one. I had the surname Flowers, courtesy of my bastard grandfather. But I loved the Pyralis' with all my heart. They took me in and cared for me, when my own parents beat me bloody.

Henrick stayed silent before he sighed. "You a high-born cunt?"

I chuckled a bit. "No, the farthest thing from it. I am the low-born legitimate grandson of a bastard. They were the groundskeepers for Highgarden. As was I once." It was true...but I hadn't kept any ground up since I was a child.

Henrick ran a hand through his thick blonde hair. "Look, mate. I won't tell anyone. I can tell this fuckin' war fucked you over, too."

I gave him a small smile and put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you...mate."

"Will you still help out on my boat?" He asked me in earnest.

"I don't suppose why not."

I stood up from where we were sitting to go for a walk, before Henrick inquired, "Her name...what was her name?"

I turned around sharply and gave him a look that made Henrick wither a bit. "What do you mean?"

"What was the name of the woman that the war took from you?" He asked in a soft voice, unwilling to look anywhere else.

I let out a strangled breath. "Analia Pyralis." With that, I turned and left.

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Henrick was true to his word.

He didn't tell anyone.

Not Garrick.

Not the other men.

Not even his wife, the woman who welcomed me into her house with open arms. As far as everyone knew, I was some random man Henrick and Garrick met at the end of the war, who was kind enough to help out Henrick on his boat.

He and his wife let me sleep on a cot in their kitchen. Their house was made up of stone and was small, but the love in it poured out from the windows and into the cobbled street.

We were only back a week when we started to develop a routine.

I would wake up around the same time as Henrick. We would grab the nets, and go off towards Garrick's bakery where we would buy something for our midday meal.

We would make our way to Henrick's boat, and would go out to the middle of the ocean, catching fish and weaving nets.

It was only then when Henrick felt it safe to ask me questions.

"You're not a gameskeeper, are you? And you're not a groundskeeper, nor do you seem like a Maester. Are you a blacksmith?" He asked me one day as we pulled up a catch of tuna.

"No."

"Well...what did you do then?" Henrick open up a barrel and put the tuna in there. I wiped my hands with a cloth before I gave him my honest thoughts. "I was a companion to the young Lord of Highgarden."

Henrick turned red as he said, "Oh...ummm..."

I rolled my lavender eyes and punched his upper shoulder. "Not like that. I travelled with him. We sailed everywhere. He rescued me from my worthless piece of shit father and mother."

Henrick's face became understanding. "I see...well, that explains why you never got sick from the sea on our first rounds...and it explains how you knew about knots."

It was then that he asked me all about my travels. Where I'd been, what I had seen, even who I'd been with. I told him almost everything, for he was an excellent secret keeper.

After our time aboard the boat, we would go back to the harbor, carry the barrels of fish to the house, and prepare them for the market, by covering them in rice and salt.

Marietta would give us dinner (always some sort of seafood) and then Henrick would spend time with his wife and child as I would take a walk throughout the streets at night.

On market day, the last day of each week, we would go out to where all the vendors were and sell fish. We never left until most were sold. Then, we would go to the tavern with Garrick. He and Henrick would drink. I never did though.

Then the week would repeat.

My sandy hair grew out and became a darker dirty blonde shade and a beard set in, my attitude went from rigid to relaxed, and I felt as if I could breathe for the first time in months.

I enjoyed my time with Henrick and his family. It was good for me...and healing for me. The long strenuous duties of being a full-time fisherman got my mind off of the extinct House I once served. It helped me clear my thoughts regarding Analia. And it helped me come to terms with the war.

At times though, I could not sleep.

All I saw was the bloodshed and the gruesome images from every battle. There were times on the boat, where Henrick would knock something over or make a loud noise, and I would revert into a state of shock or panic. I would think that someone was coming at me with a knife or sword, or more frequently, that it was the soldier who stabbed me. One of these times, I was so distressed, I actually thought that Henrick was trying to attack me. The result of that was me shoving him out of the boat and into the ocean. He came back on after he talked to me from the waters. Henrick was good about calming me down, and this particularly time, we ended up laughing about it. But in all seriousness, after the laughter had died down, Henrick told me a secret of his own.

"Sometimes, when Marietta tries to hug me, I think she's trying to attack me." I glanced over at his drying form. His back was hunched over and his face was contorted with guilt. "Because of the war?" I asked. Henrick nodded and ran his hands through his blonde hair, sighing exasperated. "I think she understands...still, it's hard, ain't it? She used to always come up behind me, and give me a warm embrace...now she can't do that, or else I think she's trying to kill me. The first night back, I flipped her over and was about to strangle her, until I heard her voice. She brang me back from the hell I was in."

I later found out that, Garrick had it worse than either Henrick or me. During one particularly nasty battle, he was burned badly from his arms to his torso. He survived obviously, but ever since then, he panics at the sight of fire. Considering that he was a baker, he dealt with fire every day. There would be times when I would go out in the evenings for my walks, when I would see Garrick utside his bakery, with his held in his hands. He would be rocking back and forth, trying to block out the demons that followed him from the battlefield to his home.

Henrick eventually told me that it took Garrick fourteen years of being a hard-working stonemason to save up for bakery of his own, and that out of everything in the world, baking was his favorite pastime. Something Garrick had once enjoyed, now became a fear he had to face daily.

We all lost something in this war.

For some, it was our family.

For others, it was our friends.

For all, it was pieces of our sanity.

The friendship of Garrick and Henrick, these Lannister soldiers I was once so wary of, became my salvation. At one point in my life, I detested anyone wearing the colors of the Lion...now I knew for sure that others were roped into this war against their own free will.

Our lives were nothing but pawns for the rich to play with.

They did not care what happened to us after the fighting was done.

But for the lucky few, we managed the best we could. Throughout my entire life, I will never forget those Golden Days in Lannisport. I would be dead had I not gone there.

However, I knew I could not stay there forever.

If anyone were to find out who I was though, they would not spare Henrick or his family, or even Garrick.

It was a year later, that I had told my friend the troubles that would inevitably come to him, should I stay.

Henrick was displeased and disappointed. He liked having me around and as much I enjoyed being around him, but once I informed him of the gravity of the situation, even he couldn't deny it: I had to go.

And being the kind man he was, he told me of a few ship captains in Dorne that were searching for competent sailors, recommending that I go there for safety.

The last day was hard for me.

I had grown used to this routine, but ultimately, I made my deceased friend a promise.

I said goodbye to Henrick, and thanked him for his friendship, hospitality, and loyalty. I had also stopped at Garrick's bakery, saying goodbye to him too. I bought some bread for my journey and made my way to Dorne.

My journey was uneventful.

I did not want to alert the Martells about my presence, so I slipped by without them noticing. I made my way to a small town, where I followed the directions of where to find this sea captain.

One day, as I was travelling, I was singing an old song, when someone interuppted me.

"In the deep part of the forest,

Lies a dragon, made of stone

Sleeps enchanted by the water-", "You have a nice voice."

I turned my head to the side of the road, where a little boy was staring at me from atop of a boulder.

"Thank you." I mumbled, walking past him.

The little boy jumped down from the giant rock and walked beside me. "I know that song- The Dragon and the Phoenix."

"Good for you." I wasn't in the mood to entertain children. I moved at a quicker pace when the boy said, "For a lover of the Phoenix, you're not exactly gentle."

I stopped in my tracks and glared at the boy behind me. "And what gave you that notion?"

The boy ran up to me. He opened up a small satchel he was carrying and said, "The Spider sent me." He pulled out a rolled up parchment scroll with an unbroken red seal and said, "Fire and Blood. Be careful."

With that, the boy ran off.

I looked around me, but the road was empty save for some scattered boulders and sand dunes. I opened up the scroll and read what it said.

To The Companion of The Late Lord of Highgarden,

In Dorne you'll find

A. Captain merchant now sold

In Braavos you'll find

A House both orange and old.

Find them both there

And get them to safety

Retrieve both heirs

For soon someone will chase thee.

In the North stirs a creature

A bird of fire and gold

She is healthy, a true beauty to behold.

The mother, however, has withered away.

The Quiet Wolf guards the baby bird

Whilst keeping all predators at bay.

Make haste, make haste!

There is no time to waste.

For only you and the wolves will

Protect both the Phoenix and the Dragons

From the hands that can kill.

Separate are the places

Of which this family lives

But unified in the duty

That your loyalty surely gives.

"The fuck kind of poem is this?" I grumbled aloud o myself. "It doesn't even rhyme well." Even if the poem was complete bullshit, I knew what The Spider was telling me.

In Dorne, there was a merchant in his employ. He wanted me to sail to Braavos with him. There, I would find the Targaryen heirs and get them to safety. Where the fuck was that though? No where would be safe for them. Even if I took them to the end of Sothroyos, Robert would find them. But as I said before, children were innocent...even if these were the children I was not supposed to protect.

The child I was promised to look after was now in the North. A girl. His wife had given birth to a girl. He had wanted a girl. He once said that boys were too much trouble, but girls...they were easier to raise. He had gotten what he wanted. A baby girl. An orphaned baby girl...his wife was dead, but even if this was true, she was safe at the moment. Ned was watching over her. This did give me some relief for I knew that if Eddard was protecting the little one, he would do his absolute best.

The last thing I wanted to do was to take care of some Targaryens...but that thought alone didn't stop me from finding the merchant captain who was under The Spider's employ. I gave him the scroll, and then there I was, standing aboard a great Dornish ship sailing to Braavos.

At least I was getting paid.

I was made the ship's Cooper, spending my time below deck making containers for the goods that had to be stored. Though I wanted to be updeck, I was confined down below, away from the sunlight and fresh air. When we arrived to Braavos, the Captain took me to the safe house, an odd orange house that was slightly rundown.

Going inside, I was greeted by the sight of a young woman, holding the baby Princess, and the little Prince, staring out the window.

When we entered, the Prince looked up at me and gave me a scowl. "Who are you?"

'What a little shit.' I immediately thought.

The disdain must have been evident on my face because the Captain nudged me hard on my upper shoulder.

"Your Majesty, I am here to take you to a new home." The Captain looked at me expectantly. Doing my best not to roll my eyes, I bowed before the young royal and murmured, "My Prince, I am a loyal servant of House Pyralis, and by extension you. Please come, for we do no have much time."

The little boy's lip turned into a sneer and his purple eyes narrowed at me. "I am not the Prince! I am the King! My father is dead and my brother is dead. The throne is mine!"

I balled my hands up into fists and tried my best to stay calm. This little boy was spoiled...I wanted nothing more than to bunt the little shit across the room. "Of course, My King. Please, come along."

The little boy looked pleased and didn't even say goodbye to the woman who protected him for the past year. I went to her and gave her a small smile as she handed me the tiny Princess. "Please take care of her...poor thing. She likes drinking goat's milk with honey...she has an affinity for it, I suppose. I also sing to her, in order for her to go to sleep twice a day. Once at noon, the other at night. And the boy...he likes being near his sister, so don't seperate them for too long."

I nodded obediently as the woman handed me the infant Princess. Her violet eyes (smiliar to my own lavender ones) were open and staring at me curiously. She didn't cry or fuss as I carried her away from the home she had been accustomed to living in for her entire life.

We took the children to the ship in the dead of night, and there began my new (and unwilling) task of being the keeper of the last Targaryen heirs. I would ferry them from place to place, placing them in the confined quarters of the Cooper's workshop until it was safe for them to go out updeck. The Captain would receive word from The Spider on where to go and when, and we would head over there.

To keep my position aboard the ship though, I had to leave the children at times to go away for several months, about four to six months were the average periods I would be away. We told the crew members (the few who were unaware of the royal heirs) that I had a large family, which explained my extended absences from my Cooper duties.

At first, I did not mind. Much like fishing, it kept my mind off of the events from the war and all of the lives of my friends that had been lost. The Princess, was a gentle soul. With her large violet eyes and white hair, she started to trail me from the moment she walked. She was a quiet child, rarely talking and always staring at me working whenever we were aboard the ship. I would sing to her the Dragon and the Phoenix every night before bed and every midday before her nap (well, before she became too big for naps). Whenever we arrived at a new place, I had to hold her hand. She would look up at me, as if to ask if this place was a safe place. I would nod and she would let go. The first two months with every place we brang them to, I would stay with them, and help them settle in. Every time I would leave, she stared out the window and would wave to me, and would give me a small sorrowful smile that did not reach up to her sad doleful eyes.

The Prince, or "The King", was an entirely different story. I did my best to be patient with him, for he was only a small child, but he was willful and angry and vindictive. I have never seen a child act this way in all my years. Whenever his sister would spend too much time with me, he would yell at her or would strike her. If I were to ever get The Princess something, like a doll or a shawl, he would ruin it. It's not as if I did not get him things, but whatever I tried to give my presents to him, it was never good enough. Many times I would find The Princess upset over her beheaded doll or her ripped shawl or a ruined bracelet. Then the boy would apologize, holding his sister close, and would tell her that if she didn't make him upset, then he would have no reason to ruin her things. Soon, this became normal and what was disturbing, was that the Princess really did believe it was her fault. There were times though, that he truly showed his age. Like, whenever thunder struck hard, he became scared. Or how at times his curiosity would get the better of him and would ask about simple things, like how to tie a certain knot or how stand on his hands.

To be honest, the real reason I probably stayed was because of the fact that despite everything, they were children who lost their family.

I tried to be their father and their mother, always teaching them whenever I was near them, but it always seemed like there was a wall between us.

For them, the wall was me not always being around.

For me, the wall was guilt.

I started feeling guilty about four years after taking care of the small dragons. These were not the children that I was to take care of. The Prince nor The Princess were the child that I promised my friend I would protect...no, that child was being raised by the Starks in the North of Westeros. This was a secret I kept from my charges...until it wasn't.

It was one day that I finally decided to tell the young Prince and Princess about the girl across the Narrow Sea that was their relative. The Phoenix to their Dragon. They had been staying with a rich Pentoshi merchant and his wife for nearly a year now.

The girl was eight and the boy was thirteen.

To me, they were old enough to understand some of my tale.

The young Princess looked up at me from my lap with wide violet eyes as I told her about how there was a young girl her age who was staying with some direwolves in a very cold land. "Is she nice?" The small Princess asked in quiet voice. I shrugged my shoulders. "I have not met her, Little Dragon."

The Prince who was leaning against the wall, looking rather bored, rolled his violet eyes. "Why isn't she with us? She should be with a Targaryen, not a Stark. She should be with family."

"I can have a friend to play with..." The Princess gave me a hopeful smile as she snuggled closely into my arms.

"Am I not good enough for you to play with?" Snapped The Prince. The Princess' smile died immediately as she hopped off of my lap and went to her brother. She looked repentful as she took his hand in hers.

"No...you are good enough...but...but.." She looked down at the floor, "I just want another girl...my age...to play with me. I hate bothering you when you have other things to do."

The Prince seemed irritated by her statement, but he still pulled her into a comforting hug and said, "And you shall have it, dearest sister." The Prince looked up at me with a frown. "My sister requires a playmate her age and this girl is our only family left...bring her here. We're safe now, so it's good for her to come."

I shook my head as I stood up. "I'm sorry, Your Grace, but I do not believe this is an option."

"I am King and what I say goes! Next time you go out, you will return with her...or you don't return at all." The small Princess gave me a pleading look. "Oh please! Could you? I really want a friend...She would be perfect, I just know it!"

Her eyrd directed unspoken hope towards me, and I knew I was won over. Sighing, I stared at the both of them. "I will do my best."

That night, I left the siblings.

It had been eight years since the war, maybe it was safe for her to come with us. The Prince and Princess had not been sent assassins for a long time...perhaps Robert has given up the hunt?

When our ship arrived in Dorne, I had asked for word about the Lord of Winterfell. It wasn't until our ship was in Kings Landing that I heard about him: he would be going to White Harbor very soon. I sent a letter to Eddard Stark, using the seal he had created for me: a Phoenix carrying a flower. Our next port would be White Harbor and I had asked him to come meet me there. I told him that I was a loyal servant of House Pyralis and that it was now safe for the young girl to come with me to Essos, to be with her family.

He sent a raven to me, agreeing to speak on one of the more secluded beaches, asking that I come alone.

However, we met earlier than expected.

We were docked in White Harbor for several days. I was down below, in the Cooper's workshop, when I heard a familiar voice.

"And where are you transporting these crates?"

"To the marketplace, My Lord."

"May I look inside?"

"Of course, but I'm afraid you'll only find-" There was aloud splash and then a bloodcurling scream for help emitted from nowhere. Without even thinking about it, I rushed aboard to find everyone exiting the ship. I stood on deck, looking out at the water where the sound of the splash came from, when I saw a young girl emerge from the depths, struggling to stay afloat.

That's when I saw her hair...the same as her mother. I knew who the girl was.

I ran to the edge of the ship, where I jumped off and swam under the waves.

My eyes stung from the water and my lungs thirsted for some air, but I swam deeper until I saw a small purple figure on the seafloor in the distance. I approached her closely, but she screamed, bubble emitting from her mouth. As I grabbed her dress, her nails dug into my hand and scratched me deeply. I winced as I swam upwards towards the surface with her.

We came up from the water into the air. She started to cough wildly, choking on the water in her lungs. I heard Ned Stark say, "Grab her!" I offered her up as several men retrieved her by grasping the fabric of her dress and hoist her up.

The Captain started to pound on her chest as I lifted myself onto the dock and sloshed next to the girl.

I felt a fear inside of me that I never felt before.

What if she died?

What would happen then?

To my relief though, she started to cough up water, and I pushed the Captain aside to sit her up, allowing her to spit up the rest of the water trapped inside her body.

When she opened her eyes to see who was around her, I saw the eyes of her father and mother: dark crimson. Lord Stark didn't even acknowledge me as he quickly snatched her from my arms and cradled her against his chest. He gave off a fatherly vibe as he held her close.

That's when she started to cry loudly. How she sounded when she cried was similar to how The Princess sounded...except this time was like she had been scared out of her wits.

As the Lord of White Harbor calmed her down, the poor girl started to hiccup. I looked from her to Lord Stark, who now noticed me and stared at me with intense grey eyes. I stared back at him.

It was a look as if to say, 'Don't expose yourself'.

"Thank you." A tiny angelic voice that sounded raw spoke up. I focused my gaze on the child I had saved.

This was her.

I was finally meeting her.

She looked so much like her father, like my best friend. Though she had the coloring of her mother in regards to her hair and such, it was like a child copy of her father was staring back at me.

This little girl was the one her mother betrayed her family for. This little girl was the one that her father fought for. This little girl was the one The Princess wanted to meet so very badly. This little girl was the one The Prince had asked me to bring to him. This little girl was the one that Eddard Stark was fiercely protecting, evident even now as he held her. She was perfect...much like her aunt.

And to think, I was the only one out of her family that got to meet her, even though I wasn't even related to her.

I felt tears brim to my eyes.

Oh, how her father would have been pleased! She was the very description of what he wanted in a child.

I tilted my head to the side and looled at her. She was cold, shivering in the arms of the Warden of the North. She was dripping head to toe. Her chubby cheeks were flushed red and her hands clutched the Northman's first tightly, like she felt just as safe with him. Her eyes reminded me of The Princess, though instead of violet, they were a doleful dark crimson, a sign that the blood of the Phoenix rums through her veins.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

She gave me a slight nod, the mahogany braids on the sides of her head bobbing with her. "I was scared. I'm sorry I scratched you."

I felt like chuckling at her meekness, but I pushed it down and gave her a reassuring smile instead. Shrugging nonchalantly, I gestured to the hand where she gave me four deep scratches. "Oh this? This is nothing. I have more scars than what you did. Just another to add to the collection." My mind went to the scar on the palm of my hand and to the scar on my shoulder, along with a few minor ones here or there.

Suddenly, the Captain bounded over to me and gave me a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Good job, Mr. Flowers."

I didn't take my eyes off of the Last Phoenix as I responded with a, "Thank you, Captain."

One of the young men in this crowd had been inspecting the water when he said aloud, "What I want to know is how you managed to fall into the water."

After seeing everyone stare at something, I turned my head towards a young boy who was very pale. Another young boy stood beside him and he shuffled away as his friend looked slightly panicked.

It turned out that this boy was Lord Stark's son and he had scared the girl so badly, she fell into the water, without any knowledge of how to swim.

I tuned out his father yelling at him in front of everyone, only focusing in the small girl in Ned's arms.

Then, he turned and walked away from us.

I wanted to yell at him and scream at him. What right did he have to take her away? Her father named me her Godfather, I should be the one protecting her, not this man. As honorable as Eddard Stark was, her care and well-being to belonged with me. I travelled with her father, helped her mother...I knew more about the history of the Phoenix than most scholars. What did he know of it? A Direwolf had no place amongst the Dragon and the Phoenix. It was time that she returned to her own people.

I made my way to the ship and waited for nightfall.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

When the moon was high, and there barely a soul in sight, I took my black cloak and went to the most secluded beach in White Harbor.

I waited in the middle, per my instructions.

Soon, a lone figure approached me. He took off his hood and gave me a reluctant smile.

"Hello, Ned."

Ned greeted me back. We stood apart, facing each other for a moment before he said, "Thank you for saving Ophelia."

I felt the corner of my lips tug up into a smile. "Ophelia?"

Ned's eyes became kind as he thought of his young charge. "Yes. That is her name."

I chuckled as a memory popped into my head. "Ophelia...that's the name Rowtag wanted for her. Seraphine hated it though, she wanted something more regal like Arcania, or to name her Cat, like her friend."

Ned beckoned me towards him and we walked along the shore of the beach together, side by side. "Aye. But when she was born, Seraphine wanted to name her something to honor her Rowtag's memory."

"I like it."

We walked together in silence before Ned stopped and looked at me with his Stark grey eyes. "I thought you were dead." He mumbled quietly.

"I can't die...not yet at least. I made a pact, a promise that must be kept."

Ned rubbed the back of his neck as he stared up at the moon. "I know you were close to Rowtag...I liked him as well but-".

I sharply cut him off. "Do you know that he named me her Godfather? Before he died, before you killed him-", I hissed out, "-he named me her Godfather. She belongs to me."

Ned eyebrows furrowed into a glare as he said, "I did what needed to be done. But why? Why now, after all of these years, are you interested in her?"

I stared at the waters beyond the horizon. "It wasn't safe for me. You know that. A Pyralis supporter, I would either be executed or sent to The Wall. What use would I have been then? I kept my head down until the waters had calmed."

Ned's gruff voice snapped my attention back to him. "As smart as your choice was, it doesn't matter. Seraphine named Catelyn her Godmother and Robert named me her Guardian, as did Serphine. I have more of a claim to her than you. Ophelia isn't going anywhere with you."

I felt my anger burst out of my chest. "She will go with me! She doesn't belong in the North, she belongs with her own kind! She belongs with family."

"I am her family." Ned stated coolly. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared me down.

"I have been looking after The Prince and the Princess. They need her over there with them and she needs them. The Phoenix and the Dragon must stay together."

Ned's eyes flashed with concern but his face remained determined. "She's fine where she is, no doubt about that."

"She'll be safe over there." I argued.

"She'll be safer with me." He countered. I felt my nose twist up into a snarl and my hands ball up into fists. Ned saw this and gave me a sympathetic look. "I understand...you made a promise, and you want to keep it. But think about this: Robert can't touch her as long as I'm standing. He wouldn't dare. Now, think about the Prince and Princess across the Narrow Sea. How many times did you have to move them to a safer place, only to realize that it was not safe at all?"

My words were caught in my throat as I could not think of a response. Ned knew this as he continued. "Exactly. Not to mention my own family would be endangered should she disappear from my care. The King, no matter how old our friendship is, would not be merciful towards us in that situation."

He spoke logically, but I could feel the desperation cling inside of me. "Please Ned", I was begging him now, "Let me take her. She needs to be with me...with the last of her family."

'I needed her' was what I really wanted to say. I was alone...and there would always be that wall between Daenerys, Viserys, and I. But with Ophelia, the wall would no longer exist. We could become a family, the four of us. We could heal each other. The hole in my heart that Analia and Rowtag left behind could be filled with these children.

Ned shook his head. "As I said before, she is with family. She is my child in every way that matters. Catelyn takes care of her, she even nursed her from her own breast when Ophelia was a babe. She is close to my children and is always playing with them. Ophelia...she is good where she is at. She's a very happy child, always smiling about something, always laughing. Winterfell is her home. She was born in the North...she is of the North. If you care for her, if you truly do, don't take her away from the only home she has ever known. It would break her heart."

I staggered back and felt like I had been punched in the stomach. He was right. I doubled over to my knees and held my hands on my legs. "She looks just like him...like Rowtag."

Ned's voice was soft yet painful. "Aye. She does. She's so much like him." I felt the tears overflow down my cheeks and I looked up at Ned. "Please...please...It's what he would have wanted."

Ned shook his head as he backed away from me. "No...he would have wanted her to be safe, and safety is something you can not guarantee. I'm sorry, old friend."

With a shaky breath, I stood up. I wiped my eyes while glancing at Ned and said, "You promise to make sure she is always cared for? Always safe?"

Ned nodded. "Of course."

With a stab to my heart, I whispered, "Keep her then..."

"I know you love her, but I do too."

I turned my back on the Quiet Wolf and started to walk away, stopping when I heard him say, "It was smart of you to use the sigil I made back when we were lads."

"Thank you." I mumbled dejectedly, keeping my eyes focused on the horizon in front of me.

There was a brief moment of calm silence before Ned asked, "What will you do now, Gellian?"

I turned slightly towards him before I said, "What I always do: survive."

Boom. Ser Gellian Flowers, the Knight of Highgarden, best friend to Rowtag Pyralis, and Ophelia's Secret Godfather is alive and kicking. He survived his shoulder wound and the war (he also has some PTSD and is very alone). He was also the sailor that saved her in White Harbor, was smitten with her aunt, and he is going to play a major role in her story. Additionally revealed in this chapter: Dany knows about Ophelia and Cat is technically her Godmother, not just her Legal Guardian. Tell me what you think! Next Chapter: The initial courting stages between Ophelia and Torrhen, as well as some irritation from her peers. Alright! So Read, Review, and Rest Easy! P.S. Let's get this up to 100 reviews! That's only 8 reviews for this chapter! Please, I know you can do it!