Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun.
Book 2
Chapter One-Hundred and Eighteen
Elia woke up in her bed with her husband at her side and all she wanted was to wrap her arms around him and go back to sleep and dream sweet dreams for a while longer and to wake him up with sweet kisses but what she wanted and what she had to do were always different and so she pulled away from Ned, pushed her covers off of her and got to her feet while her husband slumbered.
She walked over to the floor-length looking glass and stared at herself, the years had made their sport with her, and there always seemed to be more grey in her hair with each day that passed and her belly was round, she had born nine children that lived and another that she had lost and the weight did not fall away so easily as it had and her tits had started to sag as well, she already looked bigger than she should have been and she doubted that she would get much bigger as the babe inside her continued to grow.
But Ned still found her beautiful, he had proven that much last night and a smile crossed her features as she remembered it.
She was about to go and call for her maids when a pair of thick arms wrapped around her middle, her smile growing wider as Ned rested his hands on the swell of her belly and buried his face into the crook of her neck, she hummed as she felt Ned press kisses to her skin, the bristles of his beard scratching against her skin was as good as any kiss could hope to be. "I didn't want to wake you."
"The bed was too cold without you," Ned muttered in-between kisses and Elia leaned back into his hold and closed her eyes and allowed herself to enjoy the attention for a few long moments but there was work to be done and they were not young anymore, they had not been in such a very long time and so, with great reluctance, pulled away from him.
"Where is my northern husband, hm?" Elia hummed as she turned and walked back over to the bed and picked up her shift from the floor and pulled it over her head. "I am certain that you can cope with a bit of cold, and I will be more than happy to warm your bed tonight, considering you warmed mine."
As king and queen, it was only proper that she and Ned had separate apartments but it was only for show, considering almost every night they slept in the same bed. It was also the worst kept secret in the Red Keep that they did so but Elia wouldn't give her apartments up regardless, she did enjoy her own rooms where she could think on her own.
"I hope so," Ned said to her before giving her one last kiss before he turned to the bed and gathered up his trousers and thin cotton shirt which he pulled on before gathering the rest of his garments and leaving her apartments to let her start her day.
As soon as her husband had gone Elia sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, it was going to be a very long day.
Elia summoned her maids, all eight of them Dornish, and they dressed her for the day in a gown of purple velvet with orange silk lining the sleeves and a hairnet studded with fire opals bound her curls up. When she was handed her weirwood walking stick she was ready to begin her day.
She was breaking fast with her ladies today, she had made a habit of trying to always divvy up her time equally between breaking her fast with her family and with her ladies so that they would feel that their presence was important to her. She had so many ladies that it was impossible to spend time with all of them, the breakfast then was very important as it was one of the few times that she could at least be in the presence of all her ladies even if it was impossible to speak to all of them.
She made her way to her ballroom within Maegor's Holdfast, Ser Jaime had the honor of guarding her that day, and once she stepped inside all her ladies stood to greet her, she couldn't help but smile at the sound of chairs scraping back and skirts brushing against the stone floors as all of her many ladies rose from their chairs.
Elia made her way to the table on the dais and took the high seat, the table was empty aside from her but it would not stay that way. She dispatched her maids throughout the ballroom and they invited the ladies that Elia had told them to up to the high table.
She had invited two of her northern ladies to the places of honor at her table, Dacey Mormont at her right and Leona Woolfield at her left. Also at the table were Cersei and Alysanne Umber, the maiden aunts of the Lord of Last Hearth, Ser Garlan's wife Leonette Fossoway and Alyce Graceford and Larra Blackmont as well as two dozen other ladies besides.
As soon as everyone had sat down the serving men brought in the food for them to break their fast, it was not a heavy meal as Elia wanted to make sure that there would be enough food to store for the winter. She was a Stark as much as a Martell after all and she and Ned would not risk being caught unawares if the south was hit with a terrible winter.
One of the first things that her husband had done when they had come to live in the Red Keep was to have large stores built within the walls of the Red Keep, separate from the food stores that the kitchens of the castle used to make the every day meals. All the meat that was placed within the stores was heavily salted as well as kept cool by ice that had been shipped down from the Wall in crates of sawdust in exchange for gold and other supplies.
It wasn't just meat, of course, there was fish and cheese and bread and grains and vegetables and fruits all being kept cool for the winter. It wasn't just the Red Keep that had new stores, the city itself had massive new stores of food which a new law that Ned had passed saw that they were always filled with a third of every harvest that was brought in to the city, he had wanted it to be half of every harvest but Elia knew that would be too much.
Hunger would always overwhelm love in the end.
She had needed to serve a larger feast to break fast when the ladies of all the many houses that had come to the tourney to celebrate the unification of the realm, but most of them had returned to their own lands with their families now so she could get back to serving food that her ladies had grown used to in her company and service.
Platters of fruit, cheese, and nuts were placed in front of them as well as loaves of bread made from fair flour, with small pots of butter, honey, preserves of blackberry and raspberries and spiced pumpkin butter and pots of potted hare for her ladies who wanted some meat in the morning. Pitchers of honey and milk were brought out as well, she would not have any drunkards among her ladies as to how they acted reflected on her. A fine way to breakfast.
"Are you looking forward to seeing your mother and your sisters again Dacey?" Elia asked the heir to Bear Island as she spread some butter onto a slice of bread before adding a sprinkle of salt on top of it.
"Of course Your Grace," Dacey said with a smile as she reached for a bunch of grapes and popped one into her mouth. "It's been so long since I've seen them, and Bear Island as well. Though I do intend to stay at Winterfell for a little while after the wedding, I am sure that Minisa and Jon will be very happy with one another of course but I'd like to make sure that Minisa knows she has someone she can speak to after the wedding night."
"That's very kind of you," Elia said, it was always good to know that she had chosen good and kind-hearted people to surround herself with and it was even more of a comfort to know that her daughters would also have good people about them when she could not be there for them herself.
They would be heading North soon enough, by the end of the week in fact to see Jon married to Minisa, and most of her northern ladies would be returning to their castles for a time and some, like Dacey, would not be coming back south. She knew that it was coming of course, but that did not make it easier to face.
When all of her ladies had their fill and the plates had been cleared away, with the leftovers to be distributed to the poor of the city, her singers came to entertain them and her ladies began to speak amongst themselves about a thousand things and one or attended to their needlework.
Elia reached up to wipe a tear away as Alia of Braavos sang an old lament of a woman who had lost her husband and all her sons at sea during a storm, the old woman's deep voice added to the sweet sorrow of the song. All the Queen's singers were women, the only men she had about herself were her Queensguard, her own guards, thirty knights who had sworn her their service, and three maesters from Oldtown.
There were more songs from the rest of her singers, more tears mixed in with laughter, but time marched on and Elia was a queen and thus there was much that needed her attention and thus she called an end to the gathering and rose from her chair.
She choose another group of ladies to accompany her throughout the day, Lady Patrice Patruk of Gulltown who had been on the other side of the rebellion but who had been pardoned and Elia had invited to her court when she had heard about her plea for mercy, not just for her own children but for the lowborn women in the city who did not even have the protection of birth and blood to protect them from the savageries of war, not that she wasn't aware of the other benefits of having a lady of a powerful merchant family as a companion.
Lolly Stokeworth was chosen as well, the younger daughter of Lady Tanda was a simple creature to be sure but she had a good heart and a sweet nature and there was something in her that called to Elia to protect her. And she was lovely in her own way, quick to smiles and quicker to laughter with clear green eyes and thick dark hair. A tad on the fleshy side perhaps, but she knew of a few men who would prefer that in a lady and Elia would make certain that when the girl married it would be to a gentle man, both for her own sake and for Lady Tanda's.
Alongside her noble companions, there were also her three personal septas, Sestina, Daeneria, and Caulonia. All three were matrons and it had been an early choice to bring them to her into her retinue, she would not change Ned for anything of course but aside from weddings or other important events he had not stepped foot inside of a sept since their coronation.
So arming herself with three good god sworn women had seemed the smartest response to that, let all the Seven Kingdoms see how pious she was and hopeful that would be enough to dull the blades of those who called themselves the warriors of the seven who were one.
King's Landing was a city that was infested with faith now, not just the faith of the seven but also the old gods since her husband had sat the throne and there had been a fragile peace in the city ever since the knives were being sharpened on both sides in the dark she knew but they had stayed in their sheaths within the walls of the city at least.
But now...stories of the Seven Swords in the Riverlands had reached the city and how much bravery had that given to those who before had just muttered into their wine about the fact that her husband worshiped a different god than they? And now there was her son's paramour, a red priestess for a foreign god that most in Westeros had never even heard of, and it might have ended there with the woman as nothing more than a curiosity.
But then the stories of what had happened in the brothel began to spread, Elia did not like to think about it. The thought that her son had died, that she had failed in being able to protect him, was like a knife to her heart. But she was a Queen and it was more than just her pain that she needed to consider, when the stories had spread so had the interest in the Red God.
How could it not? How many people turned to faith as a comfort for the losses that they had suffered in their own lives? And King's Landing had more loss than most, almost everyone within the city walls had lost someone when Tywin Lannister had sacked the city. And the thought that those loved ones could be returned to them? Of course, the faith of R'hllor had spread like wildfires.
Nightfires were burning within the walls of the city when the sun went down, there were no red priests within the city that Elia knew off, there had been one a few years ago who had come from Myr but the man was a drunken fool and Ned had not liked him and thus sent him away from the court, and thus the people did not know how to conduct the proper prayers but that did not stop them.
Her own eyes within the city told her that dozens had flocked to fires, and those numbers had grown to hundreds at each one and it did not seem to be slowing down at all. It was minuscular numbers compared to those who attended prayer services at the Great Sept of Baelor and even compared to those who worship the Old Gods, but it did not help the tensions within the city.
Septons had been preaching in the streets, talking of demon worship and hells made of flame. No names were mentioned but it was clear to anyone with a pinch of wit what they were speaking of. There would be riots in the streets before the year was out if it continued like this, and yet all of the actions that she could take would no doubt simply lead to more problems, or larger riots.
She sent her ladies on to prepare themselves for the day ahead and to meet her in the courtyard as before anything else Elia wanted to see her son and so she walked through the corridors of Maegor's Holdfast until she reached the door of the nursery, Ser Jaime a golden shadow not a step behind her.
The nursery was composed of a small common room filled with toys for her youngest two sons and two small chambers off of it. She first went to the door that lead to Rickon's bed-chamber and peaked her head around it, she wasn't surprised to find it empty as her youngest child was a wellspring of endless energy, and no doubt he was already causing Ser Balon a great deal of trouble in just trying to keep up with him, never mind stopping any fights that her baby boy would no doubt start.
And so she walked to the other door and pushed it opened, her son's septa looked up from her chair where she was sewing an image of a dashing young knight in full plate on the back of a warhorse, a kite shield with a rainbow sword emblazoned on it hanging off of his arm, on to a silk napkin. The septa put her work to the side and rose to her feet and offered her a curtsey. "Your Grace."
Elia nodded to the woman before she walked over to the bed to where her son was sitting and staring down at the book in his lap, it was a thick-looking tome with rich illustrations in it. Elia took a seat on the side of the bed and reached out to cup Brandon's cheek, the one that was not swollen and heavily bruised. "And how are you this morning, my love?"
Brandon frowned and shifted in his bed, Elia couldn't stop the frown when she noticed him wince as the movement pulled at his arm that was bound close to his chest with silk bandages. Like all little boys, it always seemed that her son thought he was invincible until something happened to him, and something had.
A few days ago her son had climbed to the top of Maegor's Holdfast, despite his promises to her that he would stop doing that, and his foot had slipped on a wet stone and he had gone tumbling over the wall and feel hard on the drawbridge that crossed the dry moat that separated Maegor's from the rest of the Red Keep, the Mother Above had been merciful twice over as Bran had taken the worst of the fall on his arm when it could have been on his head or his back, and Ser Davos had been crossing the drawbridge when he had fell, so he could pick the boy up and bring him inside before he rolled over in pain and fell off the bridge to the iron spikes below.
She had never loved the notion of having the Onion Knight so close, but Ned had told her of how he was almost single-handily the reason that Storm's End had lasted as long as it did and Ned had refused to not let the man be rewarded for his valor, as her husband called it and so the onion smuggler had been knighted and a place had been found for him in their household while his wife and sons lived within a manse in the richest part of King's Landing, a different world from Flea Bottom where they had started.
But Elia did not love having the man so close, he had been at Storm's End when Oberyn had been and she was always terrified that the man knew something, that he knew the truth but if that was the case then the lowborn knight was keeping it close to his chest and he had said nothing when he had brought Brandon into the castle and called them to his side.
A broken arm and a bruised face was better than it could have been, and in the end, a sharp lesson now might have saved her son from greater pain later. The boy had certainly been more subdued as of late and he had not mentioned climbing again, so all might have been for the best in the end.
"I'm all right," Brandon said with a sigh as he leaned into her touch and Elia sighed sadly, she wanted Brandon to stop climbing but she would have spared him this pain if she could have. "I'm bored though, Grand Maester Pycelle said that my leg was alright now so can I get out of bed? I promise that I won't go climbing again, I don't want to anymore anyway."
"I want you to stay in bed for one more day, the Grand Maester also said that other complications could show themselves as more time passed. But if by tomorrow you still feel better then you may get out of bed but, and I do mean this Brandon, I do not want to hear about climbing anymore. You were fortunate this time but if you fall again then you might not be so. No more Brandon, I do not ask you to swear on your honor as your mother to do as I ask of you. I command you now as your Queen, no more climbing."
"No more climbing," Brandon said solemnly and Elia nodded, satisfied.
Leaving her son to his rest the Queen made her way to the courtyard, arriving just in time to see her eldest daughter riding out of the castle gates with two of her closest companions at her side, Mira Forrester and Wynafryd Manderly. Mors, Meria, and Arya were in the courtyard as well, Meria throwing knives at a round target and all of them going where she wanted them to go while a group of admirers, young men, and lady companions both, watched her.
Arya had her own followers as well, a great group of children both high and low running after her as they followed their princess to another adventure which, by the time it was over, would no doubt have added its fair share of grey hairs to the queen's head.
Mors was the only one of her babes within the courtyard that stood alone, apart from anyone else. His longbow in his arms, loosing arrows at a line of targets against the wall, and each arrow hit the center of the target with ease. Mors had never been good with a sword, but when he had taken up the bow no other could hope to match him but Elia knew her son well enough to know that he would much prefer the company of a book to a weapon, or women when it came to that.
He might have looked more like a dornishman than his twin but he had none of the fire of his uncle Oberyn, and gods be thanked when it came to that. In truth, Elia sometimes wished that Mors was less closed to the rest of the world, that he had someone that he could truly confide in. He had Torrhen and Rickard but even they did not know all of the secrets he kept. All of the fear he held deep and close to his heart.
Her poor boy, it had been hard for him ever since the attack at the brothel and she could see that. From day to day Mors was all his father's son, quiet and solemn and stoic and keeping all of his feelings hidden behind a cold mask but it took so very little to bring it down, and what had happened that night had broken through the mask like a boulder being launched at a ship by a catapult.
In the end, it had been Mors who had needed the dream wine to help him sleep, while his twin had been the calmer of the two. When Mors had finally woken up, he had refused to join the rest of the family for breakfast for the next few days after it until Elia had gone to fetch him.
"They've seen mother." Her second son had said to her as she entered his chambers, and found him sitting in the middle of his bed, his arms around his legs and rocking back and forth with tears running down his cheeks, one hand coming up to tug at his curls which he had not done when he was upset since he had been a little boy. "They've all seen!"
Elia had wiped his tears away while fighting her own back, Mors had made it his life to play a role. The younger brother, the dutiful son, a support to his older brother who would be the King and someone that his younger siblings could turn to when he needed them. A point of calm, a port in the storm that all could come to when the insanity of the realm grew too great for them to bear.
But Mors choosing that did not mean that he had loved the role, he choose it because it was his duty. Because it was what was needed. And Elia watched as it crushed him, as he did his best to hide all his fears and his worries and his pains from the rest of the world. And the night when he had held his brother's body in his arms, covered in his blood, the mask had broken and her poor boy had taken that as a failure on his part. As if he should feel ashamed for weeping at such a time.
Elia knew that part of it was her fault as well, if Mors had just been the second son of the Lord of Winterfell then he might have had a bit more peace in his life, certainly, it would have come with responsibilities and burdens of its own but Winterfell was quieter and more peaceful than King's Landing, the capital was a pit of vipers that would take everything even after all the work that Elia had done and Mors being here did not help him.
The plan had been for Mors to be the one to go North and take Moat Cailin for his own seat but Elia knew that the boy would not be able to cope with the duty and so she had asked Ned to not make the announcement public, so when the time came that the plans changed and that it would be Rickard who would be charged with rebuilding the ruined castle their son would not suffer any embarrassment.
To look at him now, as Mors went over to pull arrows out of the targets and drew some more from his quiver to fire them, no man would think that was ever any distress in her boy. Mors caught her watching him in the corner of his eye and when he turned to look at her, he bowed his head to the side and went back to his practice and Elia knew better than to press the matter today.
But there would need to be a conversation because as more time passed she became certain that Mors could not remain in King's Landing. If he did, then Elia grew more and more terrified that one day she would that he had flung himself from the tallest tower in the Red Keep.
The only other person who command her attention in the yard that day was the child that was not of her body, Aemon was sparring with three different men, all with swords in hand and he was keeping them at bay with what looked like almost bored ease.
He was a beautiful boy, with his long silver hair and bright purple eyes he looked like Rhaegar had returned from the grave a good decade younger than when he had died. Elia had never wished anyone was ugly more, if the boy had been ugly and not as charming or even not as skilled with a blade then he would not be anywhere near as dangerous then he was.
The people of King's Landing loved them well enough, they had worked hard to earn it and they had worked even harder to keep it and the North and Dorne would rise for them if they needed them to, and Elia was fairly certain that they could count on the Vale, the Stormlands and the Riverlands as well but the Westerlands had never accepted their rule and the Reach, for all it had sent her ladies to attend her and other lords to court, it had never truly accepted them. As for the Iron Islands, Elia had an awful feeling that they would go back to raiding as soon as Lord Quellon was dead, which was looking distressingly likely to be sooner rather than later though the old man was clearly making a fight of it.
Aemon was born to be a king, that was plain just to look at him. He was the older son of Rhaegar and the grandson of Tywin Lannister. If it was her then Elia knew who she would plot to rally for and put on the throne. She'd known that when she had first seen the boy, she had understood it every single night when she had stood above his cradle in the nursery, watching his little chest rise and fall. Helpless.
He would be going to the Night's Watch, that was what had been decided for the boy before he could even speak. The vows that the brothers of the Watch spoke were for life, and to break them was death. The boy would be thousands of miles away, and in a kingdom that was loyal to Ned. It was a choice that would save tens of thousands of lives, the boys among them.
There was another Aemon at the wall as well, the two of them could be a comfort to one another. It had to be done. Aemon the younger would have some enjoyment before taking his vows at least, he would be attending Jon and Minisa's wedding feast at Winterfell before heading for the Wall.
Elia sighed, and Ser Jaime noticed. "Are you well, your Grace?" Her guard asked of her, the arrogant youth who for a time she had hated for being the reason that the Mad King had forced her apart from her husband had grown into a strong and true man who she was proud to call a friend, her golden hair had been trimmed to just brush the top of his back and his face was full with a dirty blond beard.
Elia laughed, it was not a happy sound. "I am a Queen Ser Jaime, I am never well." She sighed again before shaking her head. "But we must do as we must, and there are much worse off than me. Come good ser." She spoke as she wrapped her arms around Jaime's and allowed him to walk her over to the gates where her ladies were waiting for her, all of them mounted on horseback.
One Queen, eight ladies, three septas, one Queensguard knight, a dozen household knights, and twenty men-at-arms left from the Red Keep that day, and Elia put a smile on her face as the people who lived along the road of Aegon's High Hill called out to her. They offered her their wares, offered her their children for her to name, and offered her their service as well.
From there, her retinue rode through the streets of the city until they reached the largest of her orphanages, half a million people called King's Landing and a lot of people died in it, be it from accidents, illnesses, or simply the cruelty that one person could do to another and that left a great many orphans and thus Elia had made it part of her charitable work to not only repair and clean the orphanages that already existed but also to build more.
Septa Tonella greeted her as they walked into the building and many of the children seemed to delight to see her as well, Elia sat in the middle of the courtyard and simply let herself watch the children as they ran and played about her. If it came to war then it would be the children of the city that suffered most, she would do anything to stop that from happening.
Her attention was drawn by a tugging on her sleeve and she smiled down at the face of a little blond girl with brown eyes who handed her a bunch of wildflowers clutched tightly in her hands. "Thank you, sweetling," Elia said as she took the flowers from her hands before pressing a kiss to the top of the girl's head, the girl's smile was brighter than the sun after that.
Her men-at-arms brought in trunks of toys, sweet treats, and handmade dresses for the older girls who were growing out of their clothes. Every smile and gasp of joy made Elia feel better, as did the sight of Lollys Stokeworthy playing a game of peek-a-boo with a young baby and Ser Jaime finally giving in to the plea of a group of young boys and showing them his sword.
It was another hour before they left the orphanage, and from there they rode the rest of the way to the Great Sept of Baelor. Elia smiled and knelt before the High Septon as she walked inside of the great building, taking hold of the man's hand to press a kiss to the ring.
Men brought in trunks here as well but this time they were filled with only candles, enough to say a thousand prayers if she wished to. She started at the altar of the crone, light a candle at the statue's feet. Lift your lantern high for me, my Lady. Give me wisdom so that I can know the thing to do to protect all those that I love.
She lit candles at the Smith's altar, praying that her husband and her son's weapons would never fail them and that her enemy's swords would shatter and that their shields would break, and at the Warriors to give her family and herself courage. At the Maiden's she lit candles for each of her daughters, praying for all of them to be protected and happy.
Elia light only one candle at the feet of the Father, she did not feel it right to pray for justice considering how she got to where she was now but she could not leave his altar bare. She also lit one candle at the altar of the Stranger. "All gods should get at least one prayer your High Holiness," She told the High Septon when he looked at her but her prayer was sharp.
Let all my enemies die, let any who would harm me and mine suffer and die.
It was at the Mother Above's altar where she lit the most candles, one for Torrhen and one for Mors, one for Rohanne and Meria and Lyarra and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon and one for the babe that was currently growing inside of her. She lit a candle for Rickard and Jon, for Arianne and Quentyn and Trystane. Three for each of Arianne's sons and three for Rhaenys, Aemon, and Tygett.
And finally, she lit one for herself. Mercy Mother, I know all of the terrible things that I have done. I have lied and cheated and murdered, I have slain a king and lied to a woman on her death bed. I have murdered many times, but it was to protect those that I loved. My husband and my children, it was to keep the peace to stop more from dying. Please, Mother, I beg of you. When the Stranger finally comes for me do not turn away for me, I beg of you. Mercy.
The serene beauty that the stone carver had given the statue of the Mother Above held no answers for her, her prayers were met with silence as they ever were. But when Elia rose to her feet she made certain that there were no tears on her cheeks. It would not do for the Queen to be seen weeping, after all.
A crowd had gathered outside of Baelor's sept when they finally stepped out and Elia pressed a silver coin into each of their hands, let them hold her hand, and gave each of them a kind word before finally mounting her horse and riding back to the Red Keep.
Her hip was stiff and throbbing with pain when they finally arrived back in the courtyard of the Red Keep and the sun was a fat red orb in a peach-colored sky. All Elia wished to do now was go and have another scorching hot bath that she could soak in for a few hours before crawling into her bed but she could not do that, her day was not over yet. "Ser Jaime, please escort me to my greeting chamber. And if someone could go and find Princess Sansa and tell her that I wish for her to attend me then I would be most thankful."
Once the Queen was within her meeting chamber, with Ser Jaime standing guard at the door, she sat down at the small table and waited for her daughter to come to her, she did not have to wait long and Elia rose to press a kiss to Sansa's cheek when she walked into the room. "I have a present for you."
Sansa's curious frown faded almost as soon as it came when Elia presented her with the dress that she had been making for her and her smile was joyous and bright, the poor girl had the misfortune of looking the most like Elia herself which meant that she would never be a great beauty but she was lovely when she smiled and she giggled and twirled when her mother's maids helped her into the dress.
Elia smiled and dismissed her maids and beckoned Sansa to sit with her, the Queen reached out across the table and took her hands gently. "There's something we need to talk about, you're not a little girl anymore and that means certain things. Duties and responsibilities, and that are why I've made a decision with your father's approval to have you fostered at Bear Island after the wedding at Winterfell."
Sansa pulled her hands away from her and stared at her like she suggested that she was to be packed into a crate and sent to Norvos. "Bear Island?" She whispered, her eyes blinking rapidly in a sign that Elia recognized as doing her best to blink away tears. "But...but that's so far away! It's in the North! It's cold, and miserable and so far away from anything! If I must be fostered then why can I go to White Harbour? And why me?! None of the others ever had to go."
"And that was a mistake, on both mine and your Father's part," They should have sent the children out to foster much earlier in truth, and all of them but Ned had lost Robert, Brandon, and Lyanna during the Rebellion and he wanted to keep the children close to them for as long as he could and Elia had gone along with it for, as she had wanted much the same thing but it had been weakness on both their parts that might have cost them dearly. "We should have sent them to ward, but we did not. You will be going, as will your sister and your brother. Arya will be going to Sunspear to become a cupbearer for your cousin Arianne while Brandon will go to the Gates of the Moon to become a squire for Lord Nestor."
"But why do I have to go to Bear Island?!" Sansa cried, pushing herself up from the table and paced the length of the small room. "It's not a great house, but House Manaderly is one of the most powerful in the North, and White Harbor is a city! Why can't I go there instead?"
"Because sometimes it is important to remind some of the less powerful houses that we remember them." That, and in truth, there were wounds with Bear Island that Elia would like to heal. Taking Dacey as one of her ladies had helped with that but sending them Sansa would prove that they trusted them, and it was trust that had to be rebuilt after Ned had advised Benjen to take Jorah Mormont's head for selling to slavers.
Those words did little to soothe Sansa, who quickly asked for the Queen's permission to depart which Elia gave, and once she was alone again the Queen sat down at the table, tilted her head back, and sighed heavily. She stared up at the cracked stone ceiling for a time, counting the cracks to distract herself before she reached up her sleeve to pull out a purple candle scented with lavender.
She lit the candle with another that was already set on the table and moved over to the wall of the chamber and ran her fingers over the stones until she found the stone that would press into the wall and pushed it in, half of the wall swinging in on itself to reveal a rough-hewn stone staircase that twisted down and down into the darkness underneath the Red Keep.
Every highborn child learned the tale of how Maegor the Cruel had killed all the builders and planners of the Red Keep in order to keep all of its secrets for himself but Elia had made it a goal to try and find as many as she could if nothing else it would give her agents an advantage when needing to move about the castle unseen and for her to go to places where it would not be good for the Queen to be seen to go.
And so with only the light of the candle to see by, Elia began to walk down into the darkness. She had to take it slowly as the steps were narrow, she had once had a nightmare that she had fallen down these very steps, broken both of her legs and she had starved to death in the darkness with no one able to find her and she would very much like to keep that as nothing more than a dream.
The stairs came to an end into a long dark passageway and Elia had walked it enough to be able to know where she was going without the candle but even so, she would not come down here without it, she needed it for another reason. Elia walked and walked until she came to the end of the passageway and knocked on the wall three times quickly, followed by two slower knocks, and then waved the candle in front of the wall so the scent of lavender would pass through it.
A few moments later wall swung open on a hinge and Elia walked into the chamber on the other side of it. There was a normal door into the chamber that could be reached by simply walking down a few staircases to the dungeons of the castle and then heading down to the level below the Black Cells but no Queen Consort would ever have any business go down there and thus the tunnel had been quite helpful over the years.
Elia set the candle down on a table and looked over to where her niece was working. Tyene was humming to herself as she stood over a mortar and pestle, grinding something up. "Hello Auntie," Tyene said with a smile as she looked up from what she was doing for a moment. "How may I be of service to you today?"
Elia glanced around the chamber, at the jars of ingredients both familiar and strange that Tyene used to make her concoctions, at the cages filled with rats and cats that Tyene would use to test what she made. Her baseborn niece was bright and golden, to anyone who did not know her true nature then she would seem a perfect example of an innocent maiden that should not be around such things, but Elia had learned better a while ago and Tyene was the most dangerous of all her sister just as Oberyn had predicted in one of his letters to her so long ago.
"I need something for Pycelle," Elia admitted, her voice grave. "He's an old man, he must not die quickly but I need to make sure that he does die and it looks to all the world like an old man simply went to his rest. Do you have something for that?"
"Of course, though such a pity." Tyene tutted and walked over to a shelf where a row of colored bottles rested, her fingers curling around one made of green glass. "The dear old man was always so sweet to me, though to be certain his eyes lingered on my teats a little more than I would like whenever I would speak to him. This should see to him, one of my own blends, the Mother's Embrace, I call it. Three drops in a cup of wine should suffice, Grand Maester Pycelle will find that he will have little energy on the morrow after he drinks it, and he will grow more and more tired throughout the day until he drifts in a deep sleep. And moments later, he will be dead."
Elia took the bottle from Tyene and stared down at it, it did not sound like a terrible way to die. She would like Grand Maester Pycelle to have a gentle death if she could see to it. The man was not perfect by any means but he had served the realm well enough over the past forty years. But Elia could not trust him, Ser Jaime had told her that he had been the one who had told Aerys to open the gates for Tywin Lannister, would he do the same when Tywin Lannister was at the gates with her husband on the Iron Throne?
She did not know but she would not take the risk, she tucked the bottle into her sleeve and leaned across to press a kiss to her niece's cheek. "Thank you Tyene, I will see it done soon enough."
"I am but a humble servant to the crown and a dutiful niece to my dear aunt," Tyene said with a wicked smile that would have made her father proud if he could see it and Elia nodded and made her way back into the passageway behind the wall.
She was breathless and her hip felt like someone was trying to pull it out of her when she finally made her way back to her meeting chamber, remembering to shut the wall and blow out the candle before she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "Escort my to my chambers Ser Jaime and then you may stand down for the knight, whoever guards my husband this night shall have the honor of guarding me."
"As you say, your Grace."
And so Elia was soon back within her chambers and was alone until her husband came to her. "You look almost as tired as I feel," Ned said with a raspy laugh before he strode over to her and bent his head to give her a long and deep kiss and Elia melted into it.
Servants brought their supper, a beef and mushroom pie that they shared between themselves, a salad of leafy greens, chestnuts, and a crumbled up sharp white cheese and plum moose for the sweet, with a flagon of mead to wash it down. They each spoke of their days, Ned of seeing to the complaints of the court and dealing out justice from atop the Iron Throne and Elia of her charities and time spent with her ladies.
The night had fallen on to them when they had finished their food and Ned picked her up and carried her to the bed, kissed the back of her neck, and told her he loved her before he was snoring away, his hand on her belly.
Elia stared into the darkness, thinking and weeping silently.
End of Chapter One-Hundred and Eighteen
Tywin Lannister had Gregor Clegane, Cersei Lannister had Qyburn. Elia Martell has Tyene Sand, and also Nymeria but that's for later.
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With a ton of love and warmest regards,
DiscordantSymphony