Chapter 4

Elena

Winterfell was nothing like King's Landing. It was dark, cold, and grim. She felt more like an outsider in the North than she did in the capital or in Casterly Rock. Elena already dealt with noble lords, handmaidens, and lowly servants talking about her behind her back as soon as she walks by just like how they laugh at her uncle for being "a demon monkey".

She'll never forget the first time she heard men laugh behind her back. Elena was only eight years old at the time. She was a wild and adventurous girl back then, always gaining the opportunity to explore new places, so she wandered around the docks to watch the ships depart or the sailors bringing in more cargo at Lannisport. Her uncle advised her not to run, so he took hold of her hand to walk beside her. As soon as they passed by a group of sailors, the bright smile on her face vanished when she turned to see their toothy grins and their mocking gazes, saying in their low breaths, "disgraced Lannister" and "Kingslayer's bastard". However, as soon as her uncle glared at them, they carried on with their duties.

King's Landing was even worse than Casterly Rock since no one bothered to hide it. Men were more afraid of her uncle in the West than they were in the capital, especially from those closest to her like Joffrey, her aunt, and her grandfather. Her youngest cousins, Tommen and Myrcella, never dared to be cruel to Elena simply because she always looked out for them. Niklas, himself, was an odd one though. He was never spiteful with the way he spoke towards her, yet his words were cryptic as if he held something. As for her father, the Kingslayer, he never gave her the time of day. He probably raved how he made a horrible mistake sixteen years ago as his father, Lord Tywin Lannister, scolded him for it.

The sun dawned on the North into a canopy of gold, bright amid the blue, bidding the stars to take its nightly rest. Darkness surrendered then, changing tinges of color of charcoal to vibrancy. The bright flame slowly radiated from the sky, inviting people to welcome its warmth as the great ball of fire ascended beyond the border. Elena was too familiar with this feeling. As a handmaiden, it was her duty to rise before the royal family did so that if they needed something, she was already there even though there were times where she was late to rise by falling victim to her uncle's books.

Elena left the room she stayed in and headed to the Queen Regent's room. Her aunt was strikingly beautiful with her emerald eyes and a graceful figure. Unfortunately, Elena always knew that her eyes never matched her smile in Elena's company. She didn't know if it was simply because she was a bastard or because she despised her brother, Tyrion. Perhaps it was both.

A couple of handmaidens were already in the Queen's room, helping her get ready for her departure to return home with her family. She sat on a stool, in front of a mirror, while a handmaiden brushed her golden hair, smoothing out every curl. When she heard the Queen speak, it was soft as a nightingale. That only meant that she wanted something.

"Elena, come here, little dove."

Little dove, a term of endearment only to feign kindness. Elena will never forget how her aunt told her to sit with her. She stated in a quiet tone how Elena was a beauty at such a young age when she first served Her Grace, how her brother's ward looked so sweet and innocent. Elena will never forget how those cold, terrifying eyes observed her, calculating her expression while it deceived the angelic smile on her face.

"Yes, Your Grace?"

"Where is my beast of a brother?"

Elena hesitated when she heard the word beast. "I…don't know, Your Grace."

"Then find him, and tell him to come to the Great Hall."

"Yes, Your Grace."

With a quick curtsy, she walked out of the room in a rush. She looked in his room only to see that he was not there, so she asked one of the servants who served under Lord Stark, but he didn't know either. Nevertheless, Elena thanked him for his time and headed outside in hopes of finding her uncle.

The dogs howled mournfully as the Lannister guards prepared for a long journey ahead. Elena swallowed a lungful of the cold morning air and began her laborious descent of the steep stone steps that corkscrewed around the exterior of the library tower. The rising sun had yet cleared the walls of Winterfell, but the men were already hard at it in the yard whether through their archery practice or smelting some iron.

Sandor Clegane's rasping voice drifted to her. "The boy is a long time dying. I wish he would be quicker about it."

Elena made her way over to him and saw that he was with young Joffrey as squires swarmed around them. "At least he dies quietly." the prince replied. "It's the wolf that makes the noise, I could scarcely sleep at night."

Clegane cast a long shadow across the hard-packed earth as his squire lowered the black helm over his head. "I could silence the creature, if it pleases you." he said through his open visor. His squire placed a longsword in his hand. He tested the weight of it, slicing at the cold morning air. Behind him, the yard rang to the clangor of steel on steel.

Her cousin's grin stretched from ear to ear, clearly enjoying the thought. "Send a dog to kill a dog!" he exclaimed. "Winterfell is so infested with wolves, the Starks would never miss one."

"Surely you can't believe you can eliminate them all." Elena approached them, unafraid of the Hound's demeanor. "The Starks wouldn't be keen on that idea."

"The little bird takes flight." Sandor peered through his helm, staring at her. "Not for long if her wings were cut."

The prince laughed as he always did whenever his bodyguard did this mummer's farce. Elena was already used to it through the countless men and women she'd encountered in life, so she simply ignored the comment to turn to her cousin.

"Joffrey, where is uncle Tyrion? Your mother's looking for him."

He gave her a smug look and replied, "Last I'd seen him, he'd been sleeping in the kennels, passed out."

She shut her eyes in irritation, minding her tongue before she nudged past him, ignoring how he glared at her. Joffrey had always been difficult. There was never a wave of regret for what came out of his mouth or how he acted without accord.

By the time she reached the kennels, a pungent odor wafted through her nostrils. Elena scrunched her nose, attempting to avoid the smell as she drew closer to it. The dogs barked and clawed at the wood. One of them relieved himself on a pile of hay in the corner. And there in the center of the kennel was her uncle Tyrion snoring silently with a flagon of ale to keep him company.

"Uncle."

There was no response, so she went inside, careful not to step in the mess the dogs made. She bent over and lightly shook his shoulder. He groaned and turned his body over. His face lopsided, squinting to see who disturbed his slumber as if he couldn't see.

"Looks like you had a merry night."

"I was having a dream." her uncle said groggily. "A very good dream."

"Care to tell me about it?"

"No." her uncle sighed and stood from his spot to step out of the kennels with his niece behind him. Her cheeky smile remained plastered on her face as he spoke, "I'm afraid it's too vulgar for you to hear."

Her eyebrow rose skeptically as she teased him, "I thought you always spoke your mind."

"When I am in the company of my own niece, I prefer to maintain certain boundaries on topics to discuss."

"You certainly were a gem when I bled for the first time."

"I was simply furthering your education."

She smirked at him, replying, "More like stammering like a monkey."

Her uncle glanced at her with the corners of his lips rising into a graceful smirk as if he was proud that she mocked him even though it was a horrid event to experience. After the member from the Kingsguard assaulted her in the gardens, she became a woman that night. As she slept in her bed, she felt something trickling down her legs. It wasn't until she threw her covers away and pulled her nightgown to see warm, trickling sensations running down her legs and staining her sheets. Elena already knew of menstrual cycles from her female servants at Casterly Rock since she had been nine years old, but they had never explained the concept of consummation. That came down to her uncle as he calmly explained how important it was for a woman to blossom. How she will fulfill her family's legacy once she marries and delivers children, furthering the family line. Elena will never forget how her uncle looked away from time to time, staring at his twiddled fingers like how a child did to avoid something. She could have sworn that his face flushed when his words wobbled occasionally, but it could've also been the few sips of wine he'd been drinking to dull his nerves.

"Well, you won't hear me stammering for long. I'll be heading to the Wall instead of riding back to King's Landing."

Elena's smile vanished in an instant as she stopped walking to face her uncle. "What? You're going to the Wall? You honestly believe you'll survive up there?"

"Where's your sense of wonder? The greatest structure ever built, the intrepid men of the Night's Watch, the wintry abode of the White Walkers."

She smiled at his joking manner. "It'll be a shame for you to go. Who else am I going to speak to?"

"Well, you'll have Myrcella and Tommen to keep you company." He was about to walk again, but he stopped himself when he looked back at his ward. "Oh, and if Joffrey gives you a hard time, be sure to give him a good slap while I'm not there."

Elena laughed then, somewhat thinking of the idea, but she knew better. "No, thank you, uncle. I'd rather not hear him complain to his mother. No doubt she'll blame you for it."

"She does love her children, my sister."

"As any mother should." Elena then remembered her duties as a handmaiden. "Speaking of her, she's looking for you in the Great Hall."

"It's a good thing I'm famished. I have quite an appetite." They both smiled at each other as she followed him to the Great Hall. "There's also some good news. I went to the Maester last night upon hearing of Bran Stark's fall. Seems like the boy may live."

Elena heard how one of Lord Stark's younger sons was found by a tower. His body laid out on the ground with his eyes shut. All of the handmaidens spoke about it last night when they overheard a servant boy finding him.

"Will he be alright?"

Understanding what she meant, Tyrion replied, "Only the gods know for certain, but it seems that he'll most likely be a cripple without the use of his legs."

She was stunned. Elena couldn't believe how such a young boy could fall so horrifyingly and be a cripple at such a young age. He looked to be around Tommen and Myrcella's age, nine or ten years old. Elena can't even imagine if something were to happen to them. The thought of it haunted her mind since she was so close to them as they looked up to her like an older sister.

"But that's horrible."

"Yes, it is." By the time they reached the doors of the Great Hall, he turned to his ward. "Well, no matter. It's not something for you to worry about. Go and be off with your duties before your aunt sees you slacking. I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble on my account."

She smirked at him and shook her head as she walked away to get the carriage ready as the royal family would soon leave for King's Landing.

Jon

Outside, everything was noise and confusion. Wagons were being loaded, men were shouting, horses were being harnessed, saddled, and led from the stables. A light snow had begun to fall, and everyone was in an uproar to be off whether it was further up north or descending to the capital.

Ned's eldest son was in the middle of it, shouting commands with the best of them to aid the northern men prepare for their journey. He seemed to have grown of late, as if Bran's fall and his mother's collapse had somehow made him stronger. His direwolf stayed by his side.

He then looked over to see Lord Stark was with his faithful and trusted servant, Jory Cassel, ordering him to look out for his children. When Jory left to fetch his saddle, the Hand approached Ned and looked over at his eldest son.

"He's so much like you. I'm sure you're proud of him."

"You've been like a father to me, Jon, after Aerys Targaryean murdered my father and my brother."

"The Mad King was a brute. I remember the day when I called my banners after he demanded for you and Robert to be turned over to the King's justice."

"You served my family well, and I thank you for it. A shame Robert couldn't be here to see us."

Jon looked away for a moment, reminded of the late king's death. "It's strange though. When I saw him that day, he was in perfect health, and now he's buried."

"What are you saying?"

To be honest, Jon didn't know what he was saying. He had his suspicions about the late King, but he still wasn't sure of what happened. Grand Maester Pycelle told everyone how his heart gave out. It happened so unexpectedly. Surely, no one could have predicted it, and yet hardly anyone seemed to question it.

"I think perhaps there's more to his death, but I can't be sure." Ned gave him a pensive look. "And I feel that someone from the Small Council had something to do with it."

He never trusted anyone from the Small Council. They may play their part well as long as it pleased them, but Jon was no fool. They all were not the most loyal members. They all had spies everywhere, so it was difficult to keep secrets from each other, especially when Jon anticipated their next move from Littlefinger with his whores and brothels to the Spider with his little birds flying all throughout Westeros to across the Narrow Sea.

"What you're saying is murder." Ned said in a low voice.

"It doesn't make sense, Ned. They're hiding something. I know it." When Ned looked over at his eldest son and daughters, Jon knew he was worried. "Don't worry. I'll be sure to look after them."

"Why would the King ask for my son to be his squire?"

Jon found it puzzling himself, but he had an idea. "My guess is that he wants your son to prove his loyalty. After you die, he'll be Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. Perhaps the King wants to see if he will remain faithful to the Crown."

"Look after my children."

The Hand nodded, already thinking of the idea. "With my life, Ned."

Here's the third chapter. I hope you liked it! Looks like Jon already had his suspicions since the beginning. Let me know what you think. The next chapter will be even steamier that you don't want to miss. Stay tuned!