Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Eyrie
A/N: So this is it. We are down to the final four or five chapters of this chapter, something I'm both scared and excited to announce. The end of Season 5 left me very sure what I want for Mella and her story.
There is going to be a lot happening within the next few chapters - involving Robert's warhammer, a mythical creature in the mountains of the Vale, and fire and ice truly colliding. I am really enthusiastic about what I have planned for the final few chapters.
A quick thing to note. I realised while writing this chapter that, stupidly, I had Catelyn and Sansa sort of fade out of the story. They're both back in this chapter, and their absence will be explained.
I've been writing this story since...well technically late 2011/early 2012, when it was originally posted under the Warden of the West account, and late 2012 if we're talking about when it was posted on mine. It's been a long three years working on this story, but I really hope that the ending won't disappoint you. Thank you, all of you, for your support.
The winds that bit through the camp were bitterly cold, and Mella wrapped her furs tighter around her body, a shiver running up her spine. They were not far now from the Eyrie, but whether they would be welcomed there was another matter entirely. She remembered Lysa Arryn vaguely, as a paranoid woman who trusted no one. Would her nephew be able to convince her otherwise, to shelter and possibly even ally with him?
The yelling from outside drew Mella away from the warmth of the fire, a frown crossing her lips as she peered out of the tent. Robb was concerned for the wellbeing of their unborn child, and often tried to keep her out of the cold. However, when she saw precisely what was causing all the shouting, Mella was drawn out of her tent like a moth to the flame.
"There it goes! I saw the beast!"
Robb stood with his men, eyes scouring the snow for the lean dark creature that had slipped out of view once again. Mella crossed over to him with slow, steady steps. The snow was treacherous and sank further beneath her feet than usual with the added weight of her growing pregnancy. When she looked up, she saw it clear as day. The shadowcat.
The Stark men drew back, gripping their swords and spears tightly. The creature hissed, amber eyes flaring as it inspected the threat to its safety. Robb glanced at his wife, and Mella saw the shock in his eyes, for reasons she could not place. It was almost as though this situation was familiar yet alien to him. Swallowing hard and remembering the creature from her dreams, Mella parted the ranks with one slow step after another.
The shadowcat snarled, but it took a step backwards instead of forwards as Mella sank to her knees in the snow before it. Its leg muscles tensed as if prepared to pounce, and a few of the men fitted arrows to their bows, ready to protect their Queen. Mella kept her eyes locked onto the creature before her, reaching out a slow and uncertain hand as if to touch it.
She truly hoped that she was doing the right thing, that this instinct to somehow communicate with the creature was not a misguided one. The shadowcat did not relax, but it regarded Mella's hand warily, uncertain. Before any of them could say anything, it whipped around and sprinted off through the snow, bolting out of sight. With a shaky sigh, Mella attempted to push herself to her feet, quickly aided by her husband. Robb spun her to face him, and she noticed how pale he had gone.
"What was that?" he demanded.
"I could ask you the same thing," she said softly as the men disbanded. The way Robb had looked at her and then the shadowcat…it was as if this had happened before. She had the suspicion that she knew why that was.
"It happened in a dream," Robb confessed, raking a hand through his curls. "But…I never found out what happened next. Seven hells, Mella. That thing could have killed you. Why would you risk our baby's life doing something like that?"
Mella was a little stung at the harshness of his tone, but she couldn't deny that he had the right to feel that way. She pressed closer to him, draping her arms around her neck and looking up although the shadowcat was now long gone. Why had she done that? It was something she could not explain, something that came purely out of instinct.
"Because it felt right."
Daenerys peered over the side of Rhaegal's back as they made their descent on King's Landing. It was not an overly large city, although filled with a sprawling maze of buildings. Looking around her, silver hair whipping in the breeze, she saw Viserion swoop into a dive over the city. His mouth opened and fire came raining down upon the capital, and Daenerys could not have felt more invigorated.
Finally, she was getting her chance for vengeance. These people had murdered her entire family, exiled her and Viserys. Her brother had not been the best role model, perhaps he had not been a true dragon but rather a snake, yet who knew what kind of man he would have become if House Targaryen had not been burned to the ground? As her grandfather Aerys had planned to burn the city down with wildfire, so she would burn it with dragonfire.
Her victims rallied quickly. Archers positioned themselves on the parapet, weapons at the ready, and began firing. Fortunately for Daenerys, her dragons were swift, wheeling past the archers and causing more damage to the city below. She couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips. She was not a cruel person, but she did not show mercy to those who had shown her family none.
All the cities that Daenerys had taken, all of the slaves she had freed…they had all prepared her for this moment. What the people of King's Landing did not know was this attack was not to take their city, but simply to weaken them. Once Dany and her dragons had caused pandemonium throughout the capital, then her forces would attack. They would be weak and powerless. They would not stand a chance.
A strangled howl made Daenerys whip around, looking for Viserion. With horror, she realised her dragon had a spear piercing his tender underbelly. As Viserion flailed and tried to regain control of himself, more spears whistled through the air to join the first. Dany remembered Drogon hitting the ground, bathed in wildfire.
"Viserion!" she screamed.
Rhaegal twisted around upon hearing his sibling's distress. Dany's heart hammered in her chest and her breaths came in ragged gasps. She had already lost one of her children to Melisandre, she did not know how she could possibly afford to lose another to the soldiers of King's Landing. Viserion was whirling in wild circles, attempting to claw the spears from his vulnerable hide.
The archers fired again, a rally of arrows that made Rhaegal hiss and careen away from them. Daenerys ducked, but Viserion was not so lucky. With a heart-wrenching bellow, he hurtled towards the city below. Dany's eyes filled with tears, but she knew she could not stay and risk Rhaegal – the last of her children left to her. Barely able to control her sobs, she pressed her cheek against Rhaegal's scales as he swiftly withdrew from King's Landing.
Perhaps she would triumph against her enemies and become Queen of Westeros. But until now, Dany had never considered what sort of cost her victory might come at. Right now, the thought of victory itself felt hollow.
Robb didn't know about Mella, but he treated Petyr Baelish with the utmost suspicion. The tragic story of how Lysa had thrown herself out of the Moon Door did not sit well with him, and he didn't trust the man at all. However when Sansa had hurried over to him in a flurry of skirts and thrown her arms around him, all thoughts towards Baelish faded and he focused on his younger sister, who he had not seen in a very long time. She was accompanied by his mother, Catelyn, and…
Robb's breath caught in his throat. When he had sent Catelyn and Sansa to safety, he would never have imagined he would see them again in the Eyrie, but he had certainly not expected to see Bran and Rickon alive and well. Gendry lingered in the background, as awkward as usual as Robb's brothers ran over to embrace him.
"How is this possible?" Robb asked, close to tears as he gathered his family around him. Mella watched with a smile across her lips, her hands clasped together in front of her as though she did not want to intrude on this moment.
"Gendry went to find out what was happening in Winterfell," Sansa glanced at the bastard boy, and Robb caught the affection in her blue eyes and realised there was more between them than either had let on. Then again, she was almost sixteen years old now. "I told him that he shouldn't, but when he investigated…he crossed paths with Bran and Rickon, Theon didn't burn them, they were two orphans…"
Robb raised his eyes from his siblings and looked at his mother, glancing between her and Baelish. It was no secret to him that Baelish had once loved Catelyn, and he hoped they may be able to utilise that. It would be good to have the Vale as an ally in the ever-growing war, and there could be no doubting that Baelish was the true power here.
"Mother, may we speak in private?"
"Of course." Catelyn smiled at Mella, before leading Robb out of the hall and into a private room. He eased his tense frame into a seat at the table, raking his hands through his hair. He was extremely relieved to see his younger brothers alive, but there was still so much that needed to be done. The news of Dany's attack on King's Landing made Robb wary. Not to mention that he had a child on the way.
"I need you to talk to Lord Baelish about the Vale joining our cause."
Catelyn frowned. "Me? Why me?"
"You know exactly why." Robb leaned forward across the table. There was no point in pretence – even Catelyn surely had to know that Baelish had a soft spot for her. "We need the Vale if we are to win this war, Mother. Daenerys has dragons. We don't have that kind of luxury. We need more men."
"Have you told him how you feel?" Mella inquired as she and Sansa took a turn about the Eyrie. In truth, she did not like the place much – it was open, airy and cold. The Moon Door made her stomach turn. The only place there she liked was the courtyard, where she and Sansa had spent the past few days making snow castles. It was getting more difficult for Mella, not only because of Robb's insistence that she stay inside in the warmth, but also because she was fast approaching full term.
"What do you mean?" Sansa shot her good-sister a bewildered look, causing Mella to roll her eyes. Perhaps it was her father's blood in her veins, but she could not stand procrastination and beating around the bush.
"I mean you and Gendry, of course."
"Oh." Sansa flushed a pretty shade of pink, linking her arm through Mella as they strolled out into the courtyard. "Well, nothing could happen there even if I wanted it to. I'm highborn, and he's…well, a bastard."
Mella felt the snow brushing her cheeks, and she looked up to see that small flakes were filtering down into the courtyard. She tilted her head back and let the cold bite at her, closing her eyes and feeling snowflakes clinging to her eyelashes. She smiled a little, before she hugged her cloak tighter around her and turned her attention back to Sansa.
"That doesn't really mean anything. Once I officially become Queen, I could legitimise him."
"You would do that?" Sansa looked a bit surprised, and Mella was overwhelmed with fondness for the younger girl. After all that Sansa had suffered, all Mella wanted was for her to truly be happy. She did not know her half-brother as well as she would like, but she could see that Gendry had a good heart.
"Of course I would."
"Mella." Sansa frowned, looking pointedly downwards. The Baratheon girl followed her gaze and realised that there was a puddle of water beneath her in the snow. Her hand drifted automatically to her stomach as blind fear and overwhelming excitement took a hold of her. This was what her septa had told her about, when she had been a child who had not wanted to know. Her water had broken. The baby was coming.
"Help me inside." Mella fought back the panic that threatened to consume her. She knew very little about childbirth, but she had to move fast before the throes of labour made it impossible for her to do anything. Once inside, she sat down close to a hearth. "Sansa, you must run and get your mother. Quickly. She will know what to do."
Sansa looked a little reluctant to leave Mella alone, but she gathered her skirts and ran off. Mella leaned back against the wall, taking a few deep breaths. She was safe here in the Eyrie, surrounded by her husband's family. There would certainly be a maester amongst the Stark banner-men who had already arrived in the Vale, camped beneath the high, proud Eyrie. Yet all she could think of was Lord Baelish's bright eyes and smug smile, and she fought with the fear that she may not survive the birth.
She had to. She had to. She was the Queen, and this was a momentous occasion that would go down in history: the birth of her heir. No matter what sort of man Baelish was, she would be damned if he would somehow put a halt to this.