Rewrite the Stars

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones

A/N: Hey, Y'all, the timeline might be slightly off. Just a heads up. Elain's age will be different than it was for "A Doe in a Lion's Den."

Chapter 1: The Start of Spring

Elain's POV

Age 10

Septa Merryweather was going over her lessons about the scripters for the Maiden while going over my needlework. Mother had joined us as she did her needlework. However, she watched to ensure I was paying attention and encouraged me to practice. My family is very devoted to the Faith of the Seven. Although we are not zealous or extreme, mother ensures we know our scripters, for they may come in useful when one is spiritually lost.

We sat in the garden on a rare sunny day. Well, rare in the location where Hailstorm resigns as it was a coastal region. It was near the end of winter, which means spring was around the corner. Winter in the Stormlands is not like the North, Westerlands, and the Riverlands, where they have snow. The Reach and the Crownlands deal with frost. Meanwhile, Dorne, there is a slight chill in the winds but still hot.

Not the Stormlands. Winter in the Stormlands, especially on the coast, goes by its name. Storms. It constantly storms. There is rain and storms. It comes to the point that you open the blinds and watch the lightning dance across the sky and the thunder vibrating the homes. Always wet, there is no such thing as being dry. The rare occurrence of snow is hail. As balls of ice would fall out of the sky and bounce around on the ground.

The autumn seasons are the worse when it comes to a storm. However, I love winter storms, wondering if it will hail to be close to snow. Yet, the winter season was over when father and Robt entered the garden. Robt had a grin that said good news. Then again, father was holding a cage that was covered. Did we get a new falcon?

"What is that?" I asked.

Father grinned, "A raven arrived from the citadel."

He removed the tarp to reveal a raven. A white raven. It was larger than a hawk and opposite from a regular crow. Maester Caldwell mentioned that white ravens are far more intelligent than their usual counterparts. Maester Caldwell states when the Citadels send a white raven it means the changing of the seasons.

"Winter is finally over?" Mother asked.

"Yes," Father confirmed. "And if what Maester Caldwell says is true, it might be a short spring and summer."

Spring in the Stormlands means lighter rains, more minor storms, and cascaded clouds. Summers have better where there are more sunny days with isolated showers. There will always be storms, yet seeing the sun would be refreshing.

"I can't wait to go hunting," Robt said.

Usually, sons wait until they are ten years old. However, father promised Robt that he could join the hunt. Children who attend don't actually go hunting. They usually follow along on horseback to practice their riding skills. Winter has been short, merely two years, with one year of Autumn. Father managed to keep Hailstorm maintained and the village nearby by securing the dry storage and provision. Along with trade with the Crownlands, thanks to our relationship with our cousins. The Baratheons.

The last two years have been hard. Grandfather Winston passed away from natural causes. So, Father had to take charge of being Lord of Hailstorm, and seeing how well he did in maintaining the lands this past year proves he can be an excellent lord.

"Of course, we need to stack on food. I think your mother and sister are getting tired of eating fish," Father teased.

I made a face while my mother laughed. Then again, eating fish was typical for her being a native of Estermont. I, for one, don't have the pallet for fish, yet I eat it to please my parents. I pray father catches a boar or stag, anything that isn't a fish. Salted fish…yuck.

.o0o.

The season quickly changes, and Father leads a hunting party with our Uncle Wayne and his son Edwin. Father allowed me to attend, which Septa Merryweather was displeased, yet Mother allowed. I enjoy these gatherings, especially on a short hunting trip. Robt and I would follow the hunting party while the kennel masters and huntsmen took the lead.

It would be late in the night, as we returned with a bounty of games and trophies. Although Robt and I didn't kill the animals, Father taught us some life skills if we were ever lost in the woods. For example, what are edible berries to those that are poisonous? The same goes with mushrooms, and some roots can be edible along with specific bark.

The following morning, during breakfast, Maester Caldwell entered the private dining hall with a letter. Maester Caldwell handed it to Father, who read the letter for a moment.

"Seems we have been invited to attend a jousting tournament," Father announced.

"Where at?" Robt asked.

"In Blackhaven, hosted by House Dondarrion," Father answered.

Northern parts of the Stormlands and the coastal region hardly do jousting due to the weather and grounds constantly wet, making it unstable for the horses. However, the southern parts are dryer because they are close to Dorne. I barely went to the southern regions, and my father is not one for travel unless summoned. Before winter, the last place we traveled to was a Jousting Tournament in the Reach as Uncle Wayne competed.

"Can we go?" Robt asked.

"I don't know," Father said, though in a playful voice.

"Please," Robt begged.

"Hmm," Father hummed, rubbing his chin for the dramatics. "What do you say, Syrena? Should we go to this tournament?"

Both Robt and I gave a pleading look. It would be nice to get out of Hailstorm and see Blackhaven. Mother paused, thinking about it. Both our parents love to tease us.

"Maybe, as long as both children follow their studies with Maester Caldwell, scriptures with Septa Merryweather, and good marks on their archery." Mother listed.

Robt and I lunged out of our seats and hugged our parents with excitement as we thanked them. It was easy to learn with Maester Caldwell and Septa Merryweather, and archery was basically a sport for us. Our parents laughed as they accepted the hug. We were not like a typical noble family, and father wanted us close and comfortable with each other. It is only when guests and nobles arrive do, we act formally.

Thus, in the following weeks, Robt and I did our studies and behaved well. Father had Uncle Wayne compete for the tournament. I was excited, ready to see the southern portion of the Stormlands and near the borders of Dorne, where warmth awaits.

.o0o.

The tournament at Blackhaven was festive. After a few years of winter. House Dondarrion does wonders for the festivities to ensure entertainment. There were tournaments everywhere, from archery, swords, and jousting. All sorts of sports from the many houses. As knights and competitors, all competed over Westeros. All but the North. As father says, the North's winter lingers longer in the spring.

Southwest of the Stormlands near Dorne was much warmer than expected, as many wore clothes for the climate. I was ecstatic to wear my new dress that was loose and able to breathe and not layered to resist rain. Mother was pleased to see me in my new attire, a blue dress with pale yellow sleeves.

"There," Mother said, as she did my hair, brushing out the knots and doing side braids that connected in the back with flowers.

I grinned with excitement. "Thank you, mama."

Mother smiled, placing her hands on my shoulders, "You're welcome, my sweet little doe."

She then hugged me, "You're growing up too fast."

"Mama," I giggled.

She sighed, pecking my cheek as she stood up straight, "We must go and join the men."

I nodded, standing up. House Dondarrion has been friends with House Wensington since forever. I remember Uncle Wayne teasing that if both Ser Gareth and Ser Beric had children, there is no doubt of a union. Ser Beric only had one son named Forrester; unfortunately, his wife died a few years later after their son's birth.

We entered the solar lounge where father, Robt, Uncle Wayne, and his son Edwin waited, along with Septa Merryweather. All dressed for the tournament.

"The jousting tournament won't start until this afternoon. Wayne and I have to make some arrangements." Father said.

"I have an appointment with a few ladies from the coast," Mother reminded me.

"So, children, you'll be attending the festivities with Septa Merryweather. She is in charge, and if you three get separated, head to the Stormlands sector and return to our tent. "

"Yes, father/uncle," us children replied.

The two men nodded as we all headed out and headed over to the festivities. Septa Merryweather is a woman you don't want to mess with. As long as you listen to her instructions and treat her with respect, she can be fun. So, Septa Merryweather escorted us through the tournament grounds, where common folks and nobles mingled and explored the trade and vendors. Septa Merryweather would test our knowledge as we stared at House Crests that decorate the trails.

Septa Merryweather would also get us food. I enjoyed the spiced meats on sticks from Dorne. Along with the different types of pastries and breads. I was thrilled, able to spread out my wings after two years trapped inside Hailstorm from the winter. We even watched an archery tournament as the archers competed for today's prize. I stared amazed, seeing how many were accurate in their mark while laughing at those who utterly missed when the early stages were short distance.

"We should head back to the tent," Septa Merryweather announced.

"Do we have to," Edwin complained.

"Yes, your father will expect us," Septa Merryweather reminded. "Don't you want to see Ser Wayne compete?"

Edwin nodded, knowing he would want to see his father compete. Robt nodded as well for our uncle. Therefore, we made our way back to the Stormlands section. All were people as we saw knights and competitors compete. As we made our way through, loud screams followed by shrieks and cries bellowed. The ground held a slight vibration and a gale of chaos making our way.

I turned around to see many horses were galloping along the road or trotting with hysteria. People rushed out of the way as the horses trampled along the vendors and anyone in their path in near panic. It happened so fast as the horses rushed through us. Septa Merryweather and the boys disappeared as all I saw were horses everywhere. I tried to get out of the way, near running, for I tried to find a gap between the horses to escape.

There was one, and immediately I lunged out of the way; however, I collided with a horse and that pushed me aside. I stumbled as I fell to the ground, hitting my head. There was chaos as the horses galloped rapidly through the street as people tried to collect them. I got up, looking around, yet the world was spinning. I couldn't see straight; the ground became uneven and I wobbled slightly. I looked around for Septa Merryweather and Robt, but they were nowhere to be seen.

I panicked as I tried to find them, though I did not risk shouting out. For if I dare call out, it will draw the wrong attention. I glanced around through the haze until seeing a tent with a green flag with something in the center. It was bronze in color, and it almost looked like a turtle. House Tudbury. My aunt Lady Tamara is married to House Tudbury, maybe they can help me. I believe one was competing in the melee.

I made my way over, avoiding the crowds to reach the tent. I stumbled, grabbing my head, for the pain was still there. None of the guards were there, assuming they were helping get the horses or out to a melee. I debated if I should wait outside or go in.

"How on in the seven's did you get your head stuck," a man's voice said with mirth.

"Oh, bugger off and help me," another man's voice said.

They sounded like Lord Thomas Tudbury's sons. However, I forgot their names and knew a good relationship between Tudbury and Wensington.

"Is anyone here," I asked, opening the tarp to enter the tent. "Tudbury?"

There was a sound of a crash as metal hit the floor. I adjusted my eyes to see a compromising position as a man had his head stuck to his jousting helm bent over as a man sat in a chair trying to yank it off. The clashing was the man tripping as his foot kicked over an ornate table with items.

The men turned their heads, seeing me. I can make out the man in the chair. He had a square jaw, covered in a slight beard, the straight line of his nose, the light brown hair in curls going to his shoulders, pulled back halfway. Meanwhile, the other man lifted his visor, revealing brown eyes and an attempted beard. He seemed younger, but the resemblance indicated they were brothers.

The one who had his head stuck in the helmet turned red; he stumbled backward while his brother's held on, allowing him to be free of his helm and fall on his butt. A giggle escaped, unable to stop it. The first man shook his head.

"Well, that's one way to free your big head, Garlan," the first man said.

Garlan muttered his breath and looked at me, "What are you doing in here, girl?"

I hesitated, "Isn't this…House Tudbury's tent?"

"Tudbury?" Garlan replied as he got up. "No, this is House Tyrell."

"Oh," I gasped. "I'm sorry. I'll go."

I turned to leave.

"Wait," said the first man.

I turned around, seeing him grab a cane to help himself up. He was tall than I expected, and on his right leg was a leather brace. He made his way over to me, took a handkerchief out of his doublet, bent down slightly, and dabbed the lace on my left temple, and pulled back to reveal blood.

"You're injured," the man noted.

"Must have been when the horses broke loose, Willas," Garlan suggested.

Willas nodded as he looked at me, placing a hand on my shoulder, "Let me clean your wound, and I'll help you back to your family."

"You don't have to," I said.

"I insist," Willas said as he gestured to me a lounge.

I sat down, watching the two men as Garlan cleaned up the mess, while Willas walked over to a table to grab a few things. Garlan poured a glass of water and handed it to me.

"May I ask the lady's name?" Garlan asked.

I hesitated, not sure if House Tyrell has a feud with House Wensington. I recall Maester Caldwell taught that House Tyrell served the Targaryens and raided Storms End. Although House Tyrell bends the knee to King Robert Baratheon, his father says some Houses still hold bad blood.

"Elain," I answered.

Garlan nodded, "Such a pretty name."

Willas came over and sat down next to me with a tray. He set it between us and tucked the strand of hair off my face to get a better look. He took a damp rag and started cleaning the wound while his brown eyes examined it.

"Doesn't look too serious, a minor cut," Willas noted. "What happened?"

"My brother and cousin and I were walking with our Septa when the horses got loose. I was shoved and ran the other way, only to fall."

"You hit your head," Willas noted. "A slight concussion and a few scrapes. You are very fortunate."

I only nodded.

Willas cleaned up the blood off my head and hands. He held the rag on my temple.

"So, tell me, my lady, who is your father?" Willas asked.

I bit my lip, debating it, unsure if I could tell him since he was a Tyrell.

"Why, you plan on asking for her hand?" Garlan jokes.

Willas scuffed, "Of course not."

Garlan laughed, "Still surprised you have not been wedded."

"This is not the proper conversation in front of a young lady," Willas scolded.

Garlan snorted as he went over to the other side of the tent. Willas rolled his eyes and looked at me, removing the rag to check the wound and placing it back in place. He examined my attire until his eyes stared at my brooch. It was the family crest, although it was a doe with two trumpets underneath.

Some houses have modified sigils to represent the children. I was the firstborn, so I got one deer, but with my gender, the deer is a doe instead of a stag. Robt has two stags on his crest, and so forth for the rest.

"Ah, House Wensington," Willas announced. "You must be Ser Gareth's daughter."

I only nodded.

"Well, I'll be damned," Garlan said.

"Language," Willas warned. "Not in front of the young lady."

Garlan rolled his eyes as he removed another piece of armor.

I looked down, for it was indecent.

"Wait, don't be so improper," Willas said.

Garlan grumbled.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"Don't be," Willas assured. "A young lady in need is at our service."

Garlan snorted, "Still acting like a noble knight in those fairy tales you read to Margaery."

"Shame Margaery couldn't make it, and she would have enjoyed Lady's Elain's company," Willas said.

"Is she nice," I asked.

"More like a trouble maker," Garlan chuckled.

"With a fine taste for adventure," Willas added and removed the rag, examining the wound. "It seems to stop bleeding."

He set the rag down and started to apply the salve on my temple and hairline. I remained still, trying to imagine their sister. It would have been nice to meet Margaery. Is she adventurous as I am? Does she enjoy archery, or maybe horseback riding? Then again, remembering Uncle Wayne saying people of the Reach are more delicate than any Kingdom probably prefer music and needlework.

Willas tended the other wounds and wrapped them up, "There. That should do it."

He set the extra supplies down, "Now, shall I escort you back to your family."

"You don't have to," I said. "I intruded enough."

"Nonsense," Willas said as he took his cane to help himself up and offered a hand. "My lady."

I accepted his hand as he led the way out. The streets were calm now as horses were being secured back to the stalls. I got a better look at the flags at the front of the tent. It was green, the same shade green as House Tudbury, though House Tudbury a brown tortoise with a yellow Lozenge, on a green field. But House Tyrell was different, as it was a golden rose on a green field. Now I feel stupid, for I should have seen the difference.

Willas led the way where the stormlanders reside. He kept a good hold to ensure I didn't lose my balance. I noticed he walked well as if he didn't need the cane, although his right knee would wobble with every tenth step. I wonder what happened that led to his injury.

"Now, where is your family's tent?" Willas spoked.

I looked around though there were a lot of people blocking the flags.

"Elain!"

I turned around to see my father walking over to us quickly. He panted; relief written on his face. He stopped in front of us and was surprised to see the person who helped me.

"Ser Willas," father greeted.

"Ser Gareth," Willas replied.

"Elain," father said, looking at me. "Where did you go? Septa Merryweather was worried when she couldn't find you."

"I…I..." I couldn't respond.

"Ser Gareth, your daughter fell and acquired a small concussion and cut. She mistook the Tyrell flag for House Tudbury in her condition." Ser Willas explained on my behalf.

Father sighed, taking a deep breath, "Thank you, Ser Willas. I appreciate what you have done for my daughter."

"It was no trouble," Ser Willas assured. "Keep an eye on her for the next two days. She might have some headaches from the concussion."

Father nodded as he placed a hand on my shoulder, "What do you say to Ser Willas."

"Thank you," I said, giving a curtsey.

Ser Willas gave a bow followed by a smile. I smiled back as he headed back to the Reach section for his brother's tent.

Father sighed as he watched, "Ser Willas, a noble knight indeed."

"I didn't know he was a knight," I said.

"He doesn't use his title freely, not since the accident," father explained.

"Accident?" I asked.

Father nodded, "Remember the tournament we went to before the winter?"

I nodded.

"Ser Willas was the knight in the jousting tournament whose horse fell on him," Father added. "The gods have been merciful toward him since that day. Sparing his leg from amputation."

I could only nod.

My parents kept me close throughout the tournament, along with Septa Merryweather. They held a close eye on me, along with a Maester, to check my concussion and injuries. I would spot Ser Willas and his brother during the tourney on occasions. Garlan competed in the jousting tournaments while Ser Willas sat in the stands dedicated to the Reach and Crownlands across from the Stormlands and Dorne.

Ser Willas spotted me, gave a smile, and bobbed his head before focusing on the tournament. Always offering a smile as we walked past each other.

"Fair tournament," said a voice.

I glance behind to see the lord of Storms End, "Lord Renly."

Renly gave a smile.

Hey all, each chapter will be about events in Elain's life, and it won't be fluent like most of the story.

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review!