Chapter 1: A Rude Awakening
All was dark and quiet and peaceful for what felt like an eternity and just a moment all at once. She was floating — weightless — nothing around her to grasp. She wasn't even sure if she was solid herself. She felt… she felt void. But that was alright. There was no happiness in this space, but there were no worries either. It was a kind of peace. It was calm.
And then her calm was shattered.
"Mama!"
It was a child's voice calling in the darkness from some distance — both familiar and yet not. It seemed distressed. A part of her stirred.
Most did not.
The darkness was a kind of peace. She did not want to leave it.
"Mama wake! Wake Mama!"
There was crying now. More of her stirred, and the darkness faltered. She grasped at it with her own growing distress now, and hands that lacked substance, and managed to hold it for a moment more. Then there were hands upon her shoulders, on her cheeks, in her hair, and her body grew more and more solid by the moment.
"Mama!"
A wail — much louder this time — reaches her ears, and wet drops fall upon her face. She can feel her eyelids flutter and a weight on her chest and right shoulder.
Her fingers twitch.
The dark recedes further.
There is a sound like a door being opened somewhere to her left, and then the rushed fall of heavy feet and clanking metal.
"Your Highness!"
Larger hands are on her now, beneath her back. The child cries again. It is joined by another. She needs to wake up. Her body agrees, and it stirs. The darkness is almost gone completely now.
"Princess! Princess Elia! You must wake now! Fuck! Gaellen, what are we to do? Do we call for the Grand Maester?"
"Fuck the Grand Maester! Pycelle is a cunt, and a craven at that."
Part of her was appalled at their language in front of children while in agreement with their assessment of the man's character. Part of her was confused, while unsure why the name sounded familiar and provoked disdain and revulsion within herself.
The man continued.
"The Prince has never trusted his family's health to him before, and even if we needed him, he's nowhere to be found, or so I hear. The city is being sacked and he disappears. No. We needs deal with this oursel—wait! Look! She wakes! Princess! Princess!"
Her eyes flutter open. The darkness is gone. She wants to weep for its loss, but there are more pressing matters. As her blurred vision starts to focus a man's face comes into view. A stranger in medieval armor in colors of red and black.
She's seen him before, as he guards her chambers.
She's never seen him before in her life.
"I—"
"Mama!"
A child throws itself into her arms, almost toppling her over, if not for the support of the man's arms. The girl has hair dark as coal that falls in ringlets down her back. Or, rather, they do, when she hasn't been crying and clinging to her mother after what must have been a fainting spell.
Her mother. Her.
She doesn't have a daughter. Children.
And yet this is her daughter — Rhaenys.
She can hear Aegon still crying further away.
Her name is Eliana Sanchez.
Her name is Elia Martell.
King's Landing is being sacked…
…and the Mountain is coming for them.
"Your Highness, are you well?"
"I… I think I'm going to be sick."
A/N:
So... this is my first attempt at actually posting one of my fanfic ideas. I feel it's my responsibility to warn anyone who inadvertently stumbles upon this story that I've only got a sort of general idea where I'm going with this and I suffer from depression, so motivation to write may ebb and flow. Sorry in advance! I just really really felt inspired to post something for once!
Also, Elia's future romantic interest has yet to be fully established. Originally I had wanted it to be Jaime and then I saw how old each of them was at the time and... yikes! Hard nope. I'm thinking Eddard Stark at the moment and am figuring out how to make it work. Any and all suggestions are welcome!