Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Winterfell seemed different, but she wasn't exactly sure how. It seemed almost a little bigger than it had been before, but she knew that was silly. The castle was simply a building hewn from stone, it had not suddenly grown overnight. But even with that in mind it still seemed as though the castle had changed somehow but try as she might, Elia still somehow could not put her finger on exactly what it was.

At first she thought that it was simply due to the fact that Brandon and Ashara and Lauryn weren't in the castle anymore, and she did miss them terribly. Well, she missed Ashara and Lauryn terribly at any rate but in truth that didn't seem to be what it was, for all that she missed them she didn't consider her best friend or her daughter to be so intimately tied with the seat of House Stark for their absence to truly be able too make the great old castle seem any different.

The more she thought about it however, the more the answer became ever more so obvious. Winterfell seemed different to her now because she herself was different, a different status. When she had first come here, so very long ago now after so much had happened that it had almost seemed to have happened in a different life, she had come to be wed to a second son that would inherit nothing and whose fortunes would be dependent on the generosity of his Father and of his brother.

But now that Brandon was gone, abandoning his rights, that meant that her husband now the heir to Winterfell, the future Lord of the great castle and of House Stark itself and that meant that Elia was to be Winterfell's lady as well. It had changed how the castle had looked for her, how it felt. The only problem was, she wasn't sure if she liked it or not yet.

Still, Elia was never one to turn away from her duty and she did not deny that her fortunes were well aligned as of late, wed to the future lord of one of the Great Houses of Westeros and she had already born him not just one son, but two to ensure that the line was continued. There were many who would asked to be even a third so fortune as she was and Elia was not blind to that fact.

So, whatever her personal feelings, Elia threw herself into the role that it seemed that the gods had in mind for her to play. Every morn she would wake and bathe and summon her maids to dress her before she would find the account books of Winterfell, to see how much coin was being spent in a moon's turn, how much barley, oats and rye was being harvested from the fields as well as hardy winter vegetables such as onions and leeks, how much meat was being brought back from hunts and how much was being salted down in the storerooms to ensure they would have enough food to last out the rest of the Winter.

As she worked on the books, the maid's would bring her food to help her break her fast. Winterfell's larders were deep and well stocked, they were not likely be forced to cut the throats of their horses and beginning butchering them this winter, but even so in order to ensure that they remained that way the portions had to be kept small, more often than not all she had was half a loaf of fresh bread, warm butter and a duck egg that had been soft boiled.

Once the books had been read over, she would collect them again and would go to find her good-sister. Lyanna's reading and her numbers had been much improved as of late, much as Elia might like to credit it most of it to her skill as an instructor, the truth of it was that Lyanna was simply quite smart when it came to this, once she got her head around a concept it did not take her long to be able to go through it.

That was not to say that there still wasn't some trouble with her skills, the girl could still not count pass sixty, her writing was atrocious to the point of barely being at all legible and during their lessons if there was some point that she got stuck with her temper could overcome her quickly and any attempt to get her to focus on what they needed to do surely became a fool's errand.

Still, for all of that, Elia couldn't deny she was proud of how fair the girl had come. And Lyanna would need these skills when she finally did marry Robert Baratheon and would be expected to run the household of Storm's End for her lord husband, Elia wasn't so sure in her skills in passing these lessons on to say for sure if she would be truly ready when the time came for her marriage to the storm lord, but at the same time from the little she knew of Robert from meeting him in the past and from Ned's stories about growing up with him in the Eyrie he didn't seem a man much accustomed to the fine details of ruling, if Lyanna was struggling that she had no doubt that her husband wouldn't mind her relying on the steward a little more heavily than most did.

When she wasn't with her good-sister, she spent most of her time either with her sons or with Old Nan. She was very fond of the old woman, much of her early life had been made up of sitting in the nursery of Sunspear, considered to ill to go outside and play with the older, stronger children, and being taken care of by a seemingly endless list of nurses, all of whom she had fond memories of.

The woman had an amazing amount of stories to tell, most were based around the North as that was the only land that Nan had ever truly known. There were few things that brightened her day more than when she was sitting with the other woman and listening to her tell her tales, her blind eyes almost shining with delight and mystery as she related another one.

But for all she had grown to love Old Nan, it could not compare to the love she had for her sons. Her sweet boys, they were growing so strong now and as they were growing older Elia could note all the little differences that she could see in them now. Mors was the younger of the two, and much bolder and stronger as well. He would grab at anything he could to try and pull himself to his feet so that he might try and walk, though so far he had only managed to take a single step before he tumbled to the ground.

Torrhen was the older and more reserved of the two babes, while Mors was content to squeal and shriek and sob out his misery when he was tired or hungry or had soiled his swaddling, Torrhen would simply whimper and seem content to stew in his misery until someone came to help him. He had not made any attempts to walk as of yet, but he had been making sounds with his mouth more and more as of late, if she had to guess then she imagined that Torrhen would be the one who would speak first of the two while Mors would be the one who would be fully able to walk on his own first.

Mors had a smile for everyone and would always reach up to be held, no matter who the person was. Torrhen hated anyone who was not her, he had taken time to even get used to Ned, he would kick and reach out for her when someone else dared tried to pick him. The two boys were night and day and she was beyond grateful that neither of them had seemed to fight with one another as of yet, she imagined that peace would not last long as they grew.

Even in appearance, despite being twins, they differed. Torrhen had her black hair atop his head that was as straight as his Father's and had grey eyes as well, Mors had her curls but they were the dark brown of his father's and his eyes were so dark a brown that were almost seemed to be black, just like her own. Where one son might have her nose, they would also have Eddard's smile. Night and day, both of them.

As their hair continued to grow out, Elia had found a pair of scissors and had taken to carefully cutting of a lock of hair from both of their heads. She twisted both locks together and placed them in a glass phial which she kept on her person, to always make sure that her sons, at least a part of them, were close to her and to her heart.

She would have dinner with her husband and his family in the great hall and then once all was eaten and all the plates were cleared away, she and Ned would go to their rooms. To talk about what had happened on their day, to sit together in silence and watch as the fire burned low in the hearth and often times they would simply work on their own things in silence, take comfort in simply one another's company.

One night in particular stood out in her mind, she had been sitting in a chair near to the fire, stitching one of her husband's shirts that had been torn in a sparing match he had in the yard earlier, while Ned had been writing letters at his desk. It had been quiet, comfortable and there were no need for any words to be spoken between them.

But then, Ned had spoken. "A raven came from King's Landing today, I meant to tell you earlier my Lady but I am afraid that in the middle of everything it slipped my mind."

Elia had frowned then, but her frown had nothing to do with her husband forgetting to tell her this earlier. No, her frown had been simply due to fear at what news the raven might have brought to them. Any news from King's Landing could only be bad, they were all waiting for the King to make his move and none of them knew what it would be.

Lord Hoster had taken Catelyn back home, pregnant now with a child that would be heir to nothing, and despite all of her good-father's best efforts to ease the insult and promises that Elia knew he would keep, it might well be too little and far, far too late. How many promises, and veiled threats that the King would not be a good friend to have and would probably have him burned alive if he did betray them to him regardless, her good-father made might not have been enough. Pride could oft overwhelm anyone's common sense.

She still remember the last time she had seen Catelyn, she had been dress all in widow's black and her face had been even paler than normal. Her red hair had been braided tightly behind her head and she had responded to her farewells with a simple tight nod before she walked over to the small wheelhouse that her Lord Father had brought for her and stepped inside of it. Elia could not blame her, or her Father, were she in their position, she would no doubt be angry as well.

But was Lord Hoster angry enough and prideful enough to betray his and Lord Stark's plotting to the king? Was that what the raven that had come from the capital was about? If it was so, then war could not be far behind it and she wondered what would have to happen now. For all she was angry, furious in point of fact, with Doran she knew that her brothers would never abandon her and Dorne and The North could not stand alone, and there was no guarantee that all the houses in both kingdoms would stand with them against the king anyway.

Thankfully, it seemed, that was not what the raven's message had been about at all. "It seems that the Princess Cersei has finally given birth, to a daughter who has been hailed as the Princess Rhaenys of House Targaryen, the king lets us know of his great joy and commands all royal houses to speak a prayer, to wish the princess good health and great fortune in the future."

A prayer for a princess was a much easier command to follow than a summon to the capital, if that command came then Elia wasn't sure what they would have done. If they had disobeyed it then they would have been seen as treasonous and the King would have that much more reason to declare them so and they would be that much closer to the war that seemed almost inevitable at this point but if they had followed such an order, then they would be in the King's clutches and the king would not be so much a fool as to let any of them go.

But they had been spared that and Elia gave her husband a smile at the news before she spoke. "Well then, the Iron Throne is secure. You northerners might be strange on insisting that a boy for some reason is more preferable but a child is still a child and the girl is heir to the throne to a son is born to Cersei and Rhaegar, which given how fond of her husband Princess Cersei seemed to be, I don't imagine that should take too long at all."

She turned her attention back down to Ned's shirt in her lap, making sure that she wasn't going over herself for a moment before she continued to stich silk back together. As she worked however, she had continued to speak. "Still, it is not a name I would choose for a daughter of mine. Another reason to the growing list of reasons that I am not glad I married Rhaegar, the fact I married a much better man is at the top."

Ned Stark would never blush, but Elia was more than determined to try her best to make him do so all the same. And while she had not managed to make his skin turn red, she had done enough to make that sheepish smile that she so loved appear instead and that was a more than satisfactory prize. "Thank you my lady, but what is your objection to the name? A Targaryen name for a Targaryen child is surely not so surprising?"

"It's not the fact that it's a Targaryen name, in truth. If I had a daughter with Rhaegar and he has wished to name her Alysanne or Rhaella or even Rhaenyra then I would have had no objection, though I could not say that any would be a name that I would choose. No, the issue would be the Targaryen in question. Few Dornish are fond of any of the three Targaryens who came to conquer us, but even fewer are fonder of Rhaenys."

"Why, specifically?" Ned asked, the letters he had been reading seeming to have been abandoned.

Elia had bite her lip then and placed the shirt she had been stitching aside for the moment. "You know what happened to the first Rhaenys, I assume?"

Ned nodded. "Yes, she was burning a Dornish castle and a bolt from scorpion got lucky and managed to hit her dragon in the eye. The dragon fell to the ground along with it's rider and both died in the fall."

"Well, yes that is some of it but there is more to it than that. You see, Rhaenys didn't die in that fall. She was injured, terribly so in point of fact to the point that she would likely never walk again, but she was in fact alive. Though, considering what happened to her next, death might have been far, far more preferable. I would have chosen it without a doubt."

"Rhaenys hadn't just been attacking any castle, she'd been attacking Hellholt, the seat of House Uller. There is a saying in Dorne, half the Ullers are half mad and the other half are worse. Rhaenys had burned their homes, their people, their sons and brothers and daughters and sisters with no distinction. The Targaryens live up to their name, they brought fire and blood."

"The Ullers moved her into their dungeon where...Well, I am sure you can guess what happened to her there. The Ullers have never lacked for creativity, but while they kept Rhaenys alive to torture her, news soon reached King Aegon and Visenya, and the Dragon's wroth fell on to Dorne. Over the next two years, every town and holdfast and keep and castle was burned at least once, only the shadow city and Sunspear itself was spared and no one really knows why. If I had to guess, I would say that they wanted to stir up resentment against us by the other lords."

"Whatever their reason, it worked. Dornishmen do not break or bow easily, the words of my house might as well be the words of Dorne itself. But after all these burnings, it was clear that the fight was starting to die. The Prince of Dorne sent his daughter to King's Landing with a letter to be handed straight to King Aegon. The princess did as she was bid, Aegon opened the letter and read it."

"No one knows what the letter said, as soon as Aegon read it he burned it, the most likely option is that it said that Rhaenys was alive and being tortured and they offered her a merciful death in exchange for Aegon to stop trying to conquer Dorne. Who can say for certain though, so much we do not know, so much that we only hear much later."

Elia sighed and looked up at her husband. "And that is why I would not name her Rhaenys, not just for burning thousands of my people, but of her fate. She died alone, afraid and in terrible pain far from those she loved. Such a name would surely bring bad fortune on to one who has the blood of Dorne in her veins."

Ned was quiet for awhile after that but that had not concerned her much, when her husband was thinking intently on something it could often seem like someone had replaced him with a statue so she had simply returned to her work. She had just finished the shirt and was folding it when Ned finally did speak. "They burned hundreds of thousands and conquered us, many and more might have wished to inflict cruelty on to all three of them. Still, if he knew that his sister was still alive, I wonder why Aegon didn't try to rescue her?"

"Who can say, as I told you, no one truly know what it was that the note said. That is simply the favourite guess in Dorne, if that is what it said it might simply be that Aegon knew his sister would never be whole again and if the war in Dorne continued then his sister and his love would only be forced to suffer worse and worse. He loved her very much, much more than Visenya if the stories can be believed, love makes us do strange things."

"It does indeed." Ned stood up from his chair then and walked over to her, kneeling in front of her and taking hold of one of her hands before bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it before he looked up at her. "Leaving the horrors of the past in the past and putting the talk of misfortunate names aside for the moment, I have to ask, if we did have a daughter, what would you like to name her?"

The warmth that filled her at that moment had been the sort of warmth that only Ned could fill her with and she bent her head to press a kiss to the side of his mouth before her lips ghosted over to his ear. "I am not certain, I suppose that we would need a daughter to be on the way before I could truly start thinking much on that matter. Shall you help me husband?"

"Gladly." Ned had slid his hands underneath her to pick her up as their lips joined together, kissing one another deeply as Elia clung to him. Ned had carried her over to the bed then and had gladly set to his task.

When all was said and done and there was a sweet ache between her thighs, as much from Ned's enthusiasm for her as much due to the fact that he had managed to make her peak twice, Ned was laying on the bed and Elia had her head rested against her chest, her eyes shut as she simply relaxed with one hand on her stomach, dreaming of a little girl with her hair and colouring but with grey eyes as soft as mist.

The days in Winterfell after that night started to fall into something of a routine, she would get up and break her fast, see to the books, help Lyanna, meet and talk with some of the servants to ensure that they were well and that there was nothing that they needed, would spend time with Old Nan listening to her stories, would go and spend some time with her sons, then go and eat and then spend the rest of her night with her husband, some nights laying with him and some nights not.

There would every now and then be a little alteration, sometimes she would spend a little of her time with Benjen to make sure that the boy was well or she would go out to the stables to make sure that Swift Ash was eating well and was keeping warm from the harsh winter winds that had fallen down on to them as of late, they seemed unending.

But no, one day was much the same as any another. She would not deny that she had been feeling lonelier as of late, with Ashara gone there was truly no one that she could actually speak too. Well, of course she had Ned but there were things that she wanted to tell a friend, there were things Ned told to Robert that he would never speak about to her and she just wanted that as well, a friend.

She supposed that as the Lady of Winterfell she would need ladies around her, she had only brought Ashara with her because she was her best friend and in the end, she hadn't actually brought her. Doran had sent her with her, and the plot still made her furious at her older brother, she still had no idea how he could do something underhanded, so unfeeling, treating her and her friend and her daughter like they were nothing but checkers on a game board.

Elia took a breath to clear her head, she didn't want to think about that or Doran at the moment. Her head was filled with far too many conflicting thoughts and her heart heavy with too many emotions to truly be able to deal with any of it now.

Even if she wanted ladies around her, they wouldn't be able to make it to Winterfell in the dead of Winter so she would simply have to wait until Winter passed and Spring finally came and the snows thawed. But truly, who knew how long that would take? She had overheard some of the servants talking about how they didn't think that it would be much longer till Spring came, apparently they thought that it was slowly starting to get warmer but Elia couldn't say that she had noticed that. she had been for the north for awhile after all and she hadn't noticed it getting any warmer but she had decided to keep her trust in the northerners.

Life carried of, her children grew bigger and stronger, Mors took his first steps and Torrhen spoke his first word, calling her Mama and making her cry her heart out with joy. Lyanna's skill at numbers and reading was increasing with every single day that passed, Elia joked that if she kept this up then she could be the first master to be a woman which had made her good-sister sigh lament that if only she could.

Ned was ever more and more attentive to her, their nights of joining becoming more and more frequent as they were both set on having another babe and Elia had added praying to the Mother every day to the list of things that did each day. The days passed speedily, the snows at night were becoming rarer and rarer and the snow on the ground was less and less each and every day and the portions of food they could each have was growing more and more.

And then one day, her moon blood did not come. Her joy was only matched by her husband's they clung and tore at one another and then spent the rest of the night laying next to one another, Elia's back next to his chest while Ned's arms were around her middle, his hands resting on her still flat stomach. After the day, her portions had seemed to double as the maester spoke how eating more produced a much healthier babe, though Elia could not deny that she never wanted to eat mutton again for the rest of her life.

This baby would be born in Winterfell, she would make sure of that. The skies were blue and clear with a bright sun high up in the sky, not as warm as Dorne could be, not even close nor even as warm as King's Landing or the riverlands but warm enough that she could sit in the yard and enjoy the feeling of the sun on her skin.

The endless days, when any thought of the Mad King, of war and treason and death and destruction had left her mind, came to an end in the beginning of that spring when she was sitting in the nursery and watching as Torrhen and Mors played with a collection of wooden blocks that was being built higher and higher in a shape that might have been considered a castle to a babe's mind as she was working on a prayer wheel, something she had not ever made before but had been wanting to, keep both her sons safe as well as the babe the grew within her, as well as perhaps a tiny selfish prayer that the babe would be a girl.

The peace was broken when the door to the nursery opened and Ned walked in, she only had to glance at her husband's face to know that something was wrong. She set aside her prayer wheel, unfinished, and walked over to Ned. Leaning down to place one hand on the back of Torrhen's head as Mors, younger but bigger reached up for her hand. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Ned's face seemed to be carved from stone, his eyes which were normally the soft grey of mist that she loved so very much were now as hard as stone. "A raven came today, the King has sent out an invitation. To all the great houses and houses of note, he is holding a tourney and all true men must come and declare themselves his true and loyal men."

This was it. Elia swallowed. "What does your Father mean to do?"

"He says that the time is still not right, things aren't ready for him to move." Ned admitted with a heavy frown as he reached down to scoop up both of their sons in his arms. "He will not go, but we must. House Stark must be seen to be there, alongside our bannermen. I must go at least, as well as Lyanna and Benjen. Elia, you do not have too-"

"I am coming with you, there is to be no doubt of that but the children must remain here. I shall not risk them." Elia said before she reached across and pressed a kiss to both her son's heads, it wouldn't be long. They simply had to go and pander to the King for a little while, if all was played well then they could all be home in a short amount of time, all would be well.

It had to be.

Elia cleared her throat and tried to hold back her tears before she looked at her husband. "Where is the tourney to be held, King's Landing is a large city and the Red Keep is a large castle but it could not hold all the members of the great house, most of their bannermen as well as the knights, men at arms and servants that all would more than likely be bringing with them. If she understood her husband right, it would most likely be the largest and grandest tourney that the Seven Kingdoms had ever seen.

"No, it won't be in the capital."

Her husband almost looked, for lack of a better word, nervous. "Then where?"

"Harrenhal."

End of Chapter Fifty-Seven

Boom.

Okay, so quite a bit to talk about here. Kay, so first of all for those who are confused this is what I would like to call a bridging chapter. Mainly, this is the chapter that is covering a time skip. I wanted a chapter such as these to be based around Elia and Ned as they are the core of this story and I also wanted to show Elia sort of adjusting into the role of the future lady of Winterfell. How much time has skipped? Quite a bit, in point of fact but we will get to that later.

It's also important to see that both Mors and Torrhen are growing and are different from one another as they will both be much more important...much later, more about that...much later. Also yes, Elia is pregnant again and please feel free to suggest names both male and female.

The Tourney of Harrenhal, it's one of the pivotal events of the Series and I personally hope we never see or read about it. It's something that is much more fun to have our own opinions and interpretations about it and who exactly was there during it and the next few chapters are going to be you all seeing my interpretation of it, I hope you will all like it!

As always, please leave a review and a follow and favourite if you enjoyed and constructive criticism is always welcome.

With much love and gratitude for my continued readers,

DiscordantSymphony.