cw / sluthshaming

Jon was certain that he would never get used to the smell of horse shit, no matter how long he was forced to work in the stables.

He tried not to let his discomfort show. Especially because Elle, who had been working in the stables for an even shorter time than him, seemed absolutely unaffected by her environment.

Even though he tried, Jon couldn't keep his eyes from flicking towards her every now and then. It did not distract him from his work, he would tell anyone who asked him - not that they did, too caught up with complaining.

"How come you get to tend to the horses," Halder said to Elle, "while we have to dig around in shit?"

For some reason, after brushing out the horse's mane, Elle had braided a strand of its hair.

Elle smirked. "Perhaps because I am not a criminal and therefore get to choose my work."

Almost instantly after she said it, her eyes crossed with his, and her gaze softened, looking almost apologetically. Elle wasn't the only one who had noticed, apparently.

"Jon here's not a criminal either," Grenn said from the back of the stables.

Jon could see Elle trying to say something, perhaps to apologise or explain herself, but he decided to butt in before her.

"No, it is true, I have committed the worst crime of them all," he said in a theatrical voice. "I, as a Stark, dared to have curly hair."

A general sense of confusion could be seen on everyone's faces, but soon they all burst out into thunderous laughter - even Elle.

"Aye, and dared to be prettier than all his sisters too," Pyp exclaimed while lazily punching him in the back.

Jon, however, looked over to Elle. She was still laughing, though her eyes had never left him. He nodded and smiled encouragingly, hoping it would calm her nerves about her previous statement.

She smiled in response, and Jon knew it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Elle had started combing down the next horse, a black stallion, when suddenly Ser Alliser appeared in the doorway. If there had been remnants of laughter left, it died down now.

"Elle," he spoke loudly into the room.

Said girl stretched her head out of the horsebox. "Yes?"

"Can you come with me? I have need of you."

"I will finish brushing down this horse and then I shall be right with you."

Why was Elle so courteous with Thorne?

The man looked around the room before gruffing out a "Fine" and left.

Elle appeared seemingly unaware of the stares upon her, continuing on with her work.

"There's something weird about her accent," Pyp said.

Halder huffed. "She's Dornish, what'd you expect?"

"But she doesn't sound like the Dornish I've met."

"I don't think I wanna know what kind of Dornish you hung around."

Jon had only listened with one ear to their conversation. He still stared at Elle, trying to make sense of her previous interaction.

He blinked and decided he'd had enough of the guesswork and walked over to her. She shot him a quick smile.

"Elle, why does Thorne tolerate you?"

This was what got her to turn towards him fully. She laid her head to the side.

"Do you know why he is here, at the Wall?"

Jon shook his head.

"During Robert's Rebellion, he fought for the crown. After King Aerys was killed, the loyalists were given the choice between bending the knee and swearing fealty to Robert Baratheon, or taking the Black. Ser Alliser chose the latter."

"What does that have to do with you?"

"I am a Martell. Princess Elia was my aunt and my father tried to raise an army for Viserys Targaryen. He must have put two and two together and concluded that we are on the same side."

"And are you? On the same side, I mean."

"Jon, I wasn't even born yet when the Rebellion happened. It doesn't matter whether we share political opinions, simply him believing that we do makes my life far easier."

"And with me being Ned Stark's son…" He left the thought unfinished, but he knew. No matter how much he tried (he didn't) Thorne would never like him.

"Oh, would you calm down for a moment?" Elle exclaimed. The stallion had not stayed still for even a moment since she had come into his box. "I do not mean you harm."

"I'd be careful with that one," Sam said. "I heard that a few moons past he broke someone's leg."

Elle chuckled. "I wish Elia were here. She would have no problem taming this beast."

"Elia?" Jon asked, confused. How could Elle have ever met Princess Elia?

Elle immediately recognised the origin of his confusion.

"Oh, my sister, Elia. She was named after our aunt. Sometimes I think she is half horse, the way she moves on them." She furrowed her brows together. "Though I do wish that she would have let me win some of our races."

"Maybe you'd like to race against me sometime?"

Ugh, why had he said that?

Elle smiled one of the broadest smiles he had ever seen on her. "I would like that very much."

"Maybe you would have more of a chance," Sam joined the conversation again, "if you rode one of Lord Willas' horses. I heard his breeds are the best of the best."

Jon wanted to frown at Sam, but he held back. He was his friend and Elle didn't belong solely to him.

"Good, yes. But also incredibly expensive," Elle answered. "The animals he breeds belong to kings, not bastards."

"True." Sam was deep in thought. "I would not be surprised if the king himself had multiple of Lord Willas' stallions."

Elle smirked. "Perhaps the princess used one of those to run away."

"You should not joke about that." Jon didn't know all the details of the princess' disappearance, but even he was careful around the topic.

"You Northerners are such prudes," Elle said with a laugh. "Everyone in Dorne would have laughed at that."

Jon would not have been surprised if the Dornish had celebrated upon learning of the tragedy that had befallen the royal family. They held no love for the Baratheon crown and-

"Oy, Snow!" Rast called from across the stables. He was leaning on his pitchfork, an ugly smirk across his face. His eyes were on Elle. "What'd ya reckon, how often did she have to let Thorne fuck her for him to be nice to her? A dozen times maybe?" Some of the men chuckled.

The heat curled up inside of Jon's stomach and slowly made its way into his entire body. Who was he to say such ugly things about Elle? He wanted to growl, to roar, to burn him to ashes.

"Maybe that's the reason Mormont lets her stay, eh? Suppose her bed is never cold."

A hand touched his shoulder. Jon spared a glance towards Elle, and all the fire in him froze.

Jon couldn't move. He only stared at her smile, so dark and full of malice. He had never seen someone smile like this.

Her smile promised death.

He wanted to stop her, but it was too late. She was already walking towards Rast, like a predator stalking its prey. A shiver went down Jon's spine.

The others seemingly had noticed too, for a general sense of discomfort had spread amongst them. Even Rast had noticed.

He moved his arm, and within the blink of an eye Elle was onto him. Faster than anyone could move to stop her, she slammed Rast down into one of the carts, her knee burying down on his stomach and her dagger pressed to his throat.

The other men moved back in shock, some lone shouts found no echo in the room.

"Elle," Jon tried.

"What do you reckon?" she snarled. "Perhaps the reason they let me stay is because I did to them the same thing I am doing to you now."

Rast had let out a loud scream when his head hit the shit in the cart. Now he just lay whimpering beneath her.

"Or perhaps I held them over the edge of the Wall, let them see beyond the horizon and all the way into the Lands of Always Winter. That would let anyone's blood freeze. Would you like to try?"

"Elle," Jon tried again.

"I wonder how long it would take for the entirety of your blood to leave your body. Most likely not under an hour, especially not if I only open your throat here."

Jon could almost feel her pressing the dagger further into the skin himself.

"But if I dragged you to your bed and did it there, then your bed will not remain cold for the night."

"Elle, stop!"

This time she did look up, and Jon wished she hadn't. If he didn't know any better, he would have said her eyes glowed. He took a step back.

Elle bared her teeth and let her tongue run over them. Then she looked down again, smiling.

"It seems your life shall not end today. Truly a shame, I was so looking forward to it."

She removed her dagger and took a step back. But before Rast could move away from the cart as well, Elle kicked him in the stomach and he fell back into it.

"As a reward, you get to take care of the other horses," she told Rast. Jon knew it wasn't meant as one.

Her gaze went across the room and as their eyes met, she suddenly looked unspeakably tired. Then she smiled again and walked out of the stables.

with this chapter and the last you should be able to figure out who elle is pretty easily hehe