Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun

Chapter Seventy-Three

Her days seemed to have been whittled down to salt pork, bustles of grain and barley corn and thick pages tucked inside dusty leather covers. Elia had learned how to manage the accounts of a castle when she had been a young girl, it was something that she could do in her sleep but that did not make the doing of it anymore enjoyable.

And yet, managing the accounts and the ledgers was something in which that she could get herself lost in, to give herself a distraction for what might be happening far away from the safety of the walls of Winterfell. The numbers on the page, even if she did have to squint to see them, gave her some sanctuary from constantly worrying about Ned.

Of course, it was something of a weak sanctuary and constantly under siege. Whenever she heard the sounds of the Winterfell guard clashing their swords against one another or heard the master-at-arms yelling at them for how poor their form was or how his own maiden daughter would have a better form than that or how even his old crone of a grandmother would know how to hold a spear properly.

It always struck her as odd that when men wished to demoralized others, they always seemed quick to compare them to women. It even seemed to happen in Dorne as well, the master-at-arms at Sunspear who had trained Oberyn when they were young and Mother had busy with ruling Dorne and every time that Oberyn had taken a wrong step or hadn't been quick enough to parry a blow he had called him a weak little girl.

That Master-At-Arms had never dared say such a thing in Princess Loreza's hearing however, her Mother would never allow such nonsense to be spoken in her seat. Not that Oberyn ever held the words in much high regard anyway, it had been Mother who had placed his first sword in his hands, Mother who had taught him to hold it properly and Mother who oversaw most of his education in the matter, the master-at-arms only overseeing when Mother was too busy.

Elia shook her head, she could almost her Mother's voice reprimanding her for daydreaming when she had duties to fulfill and she would have been right to do so. There was to much for her to be doing at the moment to allow herself to go back into the safety of her childhood memories, it was another sort of sanctuary but it was an indulgent one and she was a Stark of Winterfell by marriage, winter had come and a war was outside these walls. She could not be childish.

And so her attention turned back to the numbers on the page and she tapped the end of her quill against one corner of the page over and over and over again. In truth, she had already done the accounts for the day, some food was brought out of the stores to go to the kitchens to be cooked but the rest remained within the stores till the next day where the next amount of food would be taken out.

Winterfell had some of the deepest stores that Elia had ever seen in any castle, in truth it was so warm in Dorne that even during Winter it barely matter to them and growing food was not so difficult for them in that season as it was for the rest of Westeros, Summer had always been more dangerous for them in Dorne, while the sun was always unrelenting in Dorne the heat during Summer killed as many as the deepest and coldest Winter in the North.

She was letting her mind drift away again, Elia sighed and closed the heavy ledger book and stood from her desk and considered what else needed to be done for the day. She could go and spend time with her boys, she had not seen them at all since she had woken up this morning and they certainly never failed to cheer her.

But she had other duties to attend to first, she had promised to help the seamstresses of Winterfell with stitching some more clothes for the men, thicker hose and some cloaks in order to keep off the worst of Winter's chill and the maester wished to speak to her about how she had been recovering since the loss of the babe and she did not want to have that conversation, not right then and not ever in point of fact.

The loss of the babe still ached, she had to wonder if it would ever stop hurting. She had assumed it would, Mother had lost many of her babes after all before any of them had been born and both Mors and Olyvar had died in the cradle as well and according to Doran it barely seemed to both her after the initial few months of grieving.

But now Elia was certain she knew the truth of it, Mother must have felt terrible grief for every single one of them, and it must have been a thousand times worse when it came to the brothers that Elia had never known but her Lady Mother had been able to hold, and Princess Loreza had simply been excellent at hiding her grief. That had to be it. Even if she had never been fully able to hide the grief that she had felt for Father.

Elia knew that the grief she felt for her babe would never truly leave her, her sweet baby girl. The babe had not been properly formed, they had not been able to tell if it had been a boy or a girl but deep in her heart Elia knew. Maybe it was a Mother's wisdom or whatever anyone might like to call it but she knew that the babe had been the daughter that she and Ned had wanted. She had known it to be so.

But she could have been another boy and Elia would not have cared for a moment if he had been born whole and healthy and she could feel him nurse at her breast and she would not have offered a single word of complaint, she would have been so happy. She and Ned could have tried again for a daughter after all but even if they never had one, even if they just had sons, she would have been happy.

She wanted Ned, she needed Ned. No one else would be able to truly understand the pain she felt, perhaps that was unfair of her as plenty of people other than her had lost babes in the childbed, she could probably throw a stone and hit a woman who had lost a child without even needing to try and her own goodfather had spoken of how he and his lady wife had lost their own daughter, born dead as hers had been.

But even if she could talk to Lord Rickard about the pain, it would not be the same as it would be to talk to Ned. Ned would have been her Father as Elia would have been her Mother, it was a pain they would be able to share together, endure together, survive together. It would make it easier to bear, it had to. It was almost impossible for her to bear it alone right now.

But it was alone that she had to do so, it seemed. Ned was away at war, in danger and nothing could distract him from surviving and winning that war as her Goodfather had insisted, no matter how important the news might have been. But would Ned thank them for keeping it from him when the war was over and he came home expecting to be greeted by his newest babe and was met by only loss?

In truth, Elia was not sure. She had never fought a war before, mayhaps it was better to keep the truth from Ned until he came back home to them. Elia just didn't knew, she barely seemed to know anything any more. The entire world seemed to have turned on it's head. She sighed and brought up her fingers to run through her hair.

She glanced over at the weirwood walking cane that had been meant for Lord Rickard's use but she had taken for herself when she had managed to finally get out of her bed and considered taking it with her before deciding against it. She was able to walk well enough on her own without it, the Maester had wanted her to keep using it for a while longer but she did not wish to grow dependent on it, and she had even managed to take Swift Ash out for a small trot around the yard.

Her body was on the mend as it was, her heart and her mind were what was causing all of the trouble at the moment. Elia shook her head and left the room to set out about her duties. Her mind was set about not dealing with the Maester today, all he would do was fret about her again and the stress of her added duties placed on her after the loss of the babe and she had no time for it.

So, she found herself with the seamstresses and aided them with the making and the repairing of the clothes. Elia soon found that the hours of working slipped away as she sat among the women of the castle, the sound of needles going through thread the only sound that could be heard as snow gently fell outside the window. It was peaceful.

Sadly, it didn't last as all the clothes for the day were made and mended. And so she went further down her list of duties, visiting the kitchens to make sure that the cook and the servants had enough to make bread for the week, checking in with the master-at-arms to ensure that the training the boys of Winterfell were ready to defend them, though it was unlikely anyone would strike at a castle in the heart of the North.

She visited the stables to ensure all the horses were being tended to and feed, it was hard for her to think that if the Winter carried on for too long that they might have to butcher the horses and chew on their flesh in order to survive for longer. The idea of eating Swift Ash was one that she did not think that she could bear.

Hodor was tending to the horses as well as he ever did under the careful eye of the stable master, he smiled as brightly as the sun when he saw Elia and Elia could not help but smile back at him even though she knew without having to see it that her own was tinged with sadness. Elia petted Swift Ash's mane and cooed at the poor thing, he was a Sand Steed from the stable of Sunspear and was bread to endure blistering heat and to carry an unarmored man across great distances, he was not built for these harsh winters.

Thankfully, the stable master had seen that before she had needed to bring it up to him and so her own horse had there large and thick woolen blankets had been placed over him but even so the cold still made him suffer from it greatly. She feed him a carrot and gave him some water and kissed the side of his head before leaving the stables and hoping that Spring would be here sooner rather than later.

Soon enough all of her duties were done and she retreated to spend time with her sons, they were both still growing so fast and has so much energy that she grew tired when she played with them too much but thankfully Bette was with her and when she was too tired to play with them, she would do it for her while Elia would sit in a chair and watch them, sometimes falling asleep in the process.

Her energy had been rather low as of late, to much to do. She could walk on her own power now but the loss had also taken that from her as well. Bette said nothing about it to the boys, once when she had been waking up once again she had heard her tell them that their lady mother was a busy woman and busy women got very tired.

Thankfully, she wasn't that tired today. Perhaps another sign she was on her way to fully recovering and while she did not get out of her chair she was more than capable of giving their sons praise and kissing their foreheads when they brought her flowers from the glass gardens that they had picked just for her or were able to count all the way to eleven.

Mors and Torrhen restored her to herself and while she was with them she was happy, the war and the babe and Ned and everything else was far away and could be dealt with later.

She had been watching as Mors and Torrhen were building their own little town with blocks when a knock came at the door, when Elia nodded Bette went over to the door and opened it and Benjen came in from the outside. Her youngest goodbrother looked pale and she wished that she could pretend that it was only due to the increase in the cold but Elia knew that it wasn't true.

It had come out of nowhere, nothing seemed to have caused it, but Lord Rickard had another attack. He wasn't dead but he had been confined to his bed once again and the Maester had made clear both to her and to Benjen that if the Lord of Winterfell had another such attack then it was most likely going to kill him that time.

Benjen had taken to caring for his Father while Elia had taken to running the castle in full while Lord Rickard rested, only those in the castle knew what had happened to their Lord, the rest of the North knew nothing of it. That itself might be the one decent thing that could be said of Winter, the lords were to busy with keeping their own people feed to worry about anything else.

It wasn't that Elia did not want to tell the other Lords, but it was for the same reason that Lord Rickard did not wish for her to send word to Ned that she had lost their babe. It would distract him, it would worry him and it would take his mind off of keeping himself safe and Elia was not going to let that happen so the ravens had not been sent and it was made clear no word of their Lord's ill health was to spread from outside the walls, not even to the people gathering in Winter's Town.

Besides, the Maester had only said if he had another attack that he might die. He might never have another attack, he might recover and be dishing out orders for all of them again. What was the point in worrying Ned about his Father when in the end his Father might be absolutely fine? Even if she didn't believe that, she made her choice as Lord Rickard had made her choice for her. Mayhaps he would approve of it, if he could voice approval.

Poor Benjen shouldn't have to take on much of the care of his Father as he did but he had volunteered to do so and Elia had been grateful for it, she may not wish to speak to the Maester about how she had been feeling as of late but she did have need of him for other matters and so much of it need to fall on Benjen as Elia had no time to play nursemaid.

But Benjen was still a child, not one to play with wooden swords or to toddle behind his Mother while clinging to her skirts perhaps but still not yet a man and the motherly part of Elia wanted nothing to more than to take him in her arms and promise him that everything would be alright. Sadly, she wasn't his Mother and Benjen was well past the age where he would know a sweet lie when he saw one.

"A raven came from White Harbor, the Maester wanted me to give this to you." Benjen spoke quietly as he walked over to her hand and handed her the scroll of parchment, her goodbrother had ever been a shy lad but he seemed even quieter as of late and she had noticed the dark bags under his eyes and she had to wonder if he had been sleeping at all, she would hardly be in a place to judge considering that she had not had the easiest of time sleeping most nights either.

"Thank you Benjen." Elia said as she took the parchment and allowed her eyes to run over the page, taking in the words that was written on the paper and she recognized it as her husband's hand almost immediately.

Elia,

I want you to know first that I am safe and well, having arrived in White Harbor the night before. It was not an uneventful journey to make it back to the North by ship but that is a story for another time, the next time I see your face and have you in my arms which I pray is soon but I somehow have the feeling that we must need wait a little while longer than either of us would like.

My wife I am uncertain how much is known to the rest of the North as of yet, stories spread and quickly get distorted but here is all that I know for certain. Lyanna has been kidnapped by the prince and Robert has been taken as a prisoner by the King when he tried to get her back and Robert's younger brother Stannis has gone to the capital, some stories say they are both dead while others say both are being kept prisoners in the Black Cells. I cannot know.

Lord Manderly informed me that the King has declared House Stark, Arryn, Baratheon as well as several of all our bannermen as traitors to the Crown, that detail is the same in all of the stories I am sad to say. We won't be left in peace and I have to find Lyanna so it seems that I have little choice in the matter. Father ordered all of our bannermen to come to White Harbor, it's the only place in the North I could enter from by sea.

As he is not here, and I know he is still weak from his heart attack, I have placed myself at the head of our armies and by the time you will be reading this will most like be stationed at Moat Calin, if not marching down the causeway. I cannot tell you where I am going from there, mostly because I am uncertain where I am to go. Much is uncertain, but Father once told me even when you are uncertain you must act.

I love you, I pray you know that my wife. I love you, and I love our sons and I love our babe that grows in your belly. I will return home to you as soon as I am able, if Father is worth with me and feels I made the wrong decision then please tell him I am sorry but he was not here and the snows are getting worse, we have to leave soon.

Tell Benjen to be good and to be strong.

I love you.

Ned.

Elia felt the tears rolling down her cheeks once she had finished reading the letter, her hand coming up to rub at her cheeks as she quickly took a deep breath to stop herself from sobbing. A tug at her skirts made her look down into Torrhen's face, her oldest boy looked up at her with his grey Stark eyes and a serious frown on his face and for a moment he looked so much like Ned that it almost made her laugh. "Mama, why you crying?"

"Because I was reminded of how loved I am my sweet, and how lucky I am as well. For I have you and your brother with me." Elia bent her upper body downward and pressed a kiss to the top of Torrhen's head before she stepped up from the chair and turned to Benjen. "Thank you for bringing me the letter Benjen, Bette, please watch the boys for the rest of the night."

Elia left the room then and retreated to her own chambers as quickly as she could while trying to stop herself from crying again. She was grateful to find that the fire had been tended to and more fuel was placed to burn on it as was a small basket of fresh logs if it burned too low for her to be able to bare. Elia sat down and read the letter again and again by the firelight.

Servants came and brought her a supper, a small fare meant to keep the stores as full as possible of bread, beef, horseradish and some beets and Elia eat it and read the letter once again. They came back and asked her if she wished to bathe, she thanked them and said yes she did and once she was clean and garbed in a bed gown she went back to reading the letter.

The world outside of the room had turned dark but Elia still kept reading the letter, over and over and over again. Arguments and counter arguments rolled through her brain. It would be selfish of her to do, she was a madwoman, Oberyn would call her foolish and reckless and she herself would agree with that assessment most readily, though she wasn't sure if her young brother would use those words as condemnation of her or as praise of her, probably a mix of both to be fair.

And yet...her decision had been made the moment that she had read that letter.

Gods, help her.

End of Chapter Seventy-Three.

Another chapter done and dusted and the next chapter will be a Ned chapter, where does he mean to go with a great deal of the might of the North at his back? Well, you'll just have to read the next chapter to find out that I am afraid to say.

And Elia, what decision did she come to her that caused her such agony, well if I told you that there would not be much point in you reading on now would there be?

Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and if you did please leave a review, a favorite and a follow and constructive criticism is always more than welcome.

Just to point this out, constructive does not meant this story sucks. If you think something is wrong with my writing, fine. But tell me specifically what and how you think it should be done better. Okay?

With that little aside, well, aside, see you next chapter.

With a ton of love,

DiscordantSymphony