cw / slightly graphic description of pain
The pain in Jon's hand had become unbearable. He wanted to flex his fingers to try and deal with it, but every time he did so a new jolt of pain shot up his arm. His left hand had closed around his wrist to try and stop it from moving. His gaze flickered down sometimes, but the ugly red swelling was only getting more prominent. He had to swallow down his rising bile.
Jon shivered from the cold. He wished that the heat of the fire burning in the Lord Commander's tower reached the place where he was standing. He was so tired.
He still had trouble properly comprehending what he had just seen. The blue eyes of that creature were haunting his mind. The way it screeched sent a shiver down his back just remembering it. Everything that had happened today - swearing his vows, learning of his father's imprisonment - paled in comparison.
Ghost sat next to him, rubbing his head against Jon's leg. The wolf wanted to comfort him, he supposed, but it showed little effect.
"Mormont!" One of the men, Ben, came running up to them. "We've found another one."
They were led into the tunnels below Castle Black, further, further, until they stood in the hallway leading to the library.
There, the corpse lay. It looked so similar to the one Jon had burnt previously. The same rotten body, the same intense blue eyes. But it didn't move.
"What happened to him?" Mormont asked.
"We don't know," Thorne answered. He had frowned when he had seen Jon, but hadn't actually said anything to him. "We just found him lying here. No signs of a fight, no men, no reason for him to be here."
Ghost tried to get closer to the body, but Jon held him back. He didn't want his wolf to touch that thing.
"Carry him to the yard and burn him. We cannot have a corpse running around the castle." He turned to Jon. "Us two are going to look around, see if we can find out what happened, if anyone has been harmed."
Jon nodded slowly. He wanted to go to sleep.
But he followed Mormont into the library, Ghost by his side, hoping this would be over soon.
"You look over there," the Lord Commander said, pointing to the right. "That way we'll be quicker."
Jon watched Mormont walk to the left, disappearing behind the shelves. He took a breath, and immediately winced when he accidentally moved his hand. He wondered if he would ever be able to properly use it again.
He started walking along the shelves, not actually expecting to find anything, even less anyone.
Ghost trudged before him, his snout pressed to the ground, taking Mormont's command more seriously than Jon. At least one of them was good at listening.
His gaze wandered across the books, many of them old tomes whose titles have long since faded into illegibility. Maybe it was also the missing light or his tired eyes. He didn't know and also didn't particularly care.
Some of the words he was actually able to decipher. Many books were, as far as the title was concerned, about kings from times before the Targaryen Conquest. Northern names and places, some from the south, certain ones he recognised and certain ones he-
He rounded a corner and stopped.
Ghost stood in the middle of the aisle, gaze fixed on the ground. On something on the ground.
"Ghost?" He walked closer. "What is it?"
Through the light from the window behind him he could see a metal chain lying on the ground. He got into a crouch and picked it up with his left hand, the wolf's snout following it.
The chain was broken - which wasn't a surprise, it looked old and used. But it did appear familiar and after running it through his hand, Jon realised where he had seen it before.
It was Elle's, he was certain of it. He had seen the chain peek up from under her collar on multiple occasions and none of his brothers seemed like the kind of people to wear a necklace.
He wondered what it was doing here. Perhaps Elle had helped out in the library, had lost it and not realised it. Maybe when she was asked to help Maester Aemon with something. He should return it to her when he saw her next.
Then his gaze hovered over the pendant, and his blood froze.
A golden lion's head.
Jon forgot to breathe for a moment. His mind raced with thoughts, possibilities, theories, claims, questions, more and more and and more, never calming down.
What did that mean? Elle's necklace had the Lannister sigil on it, for there was no other possibility as to what this could be. This would mean that she was a Lannister. But how? Her father was Oberyn Martell, and with everything she told him about the prince he was certain she couldn't have made it all up. She knew House Martell and its customs too well.
Her mother, then. Her mother was a Lannister. Perhaps a minor lady he had never heard of. That would explain why she had been raised in Sunspear. But then why Braavos? And why had she not outright told him who her mother was? Before today their families had never had ill blood between them.
Her appearance posed another problem. While she did not look like Jon expected a Dornish woman to look like, she also didn't look like a Lannister either. Her brown hair…
She had her hair dyed. He had observed it himself, not too long ago. He had seen the golden roots, the strands slowly getting lighter.
Elle was hiding. Her identity, her family, her ancestry, herself. That once again brought him to the question of why? Why would she do this?
His mind led him back to her eyes. An intense blue. That disproved his theory, didn't it? Members of House Lannister had green eyes, he had seen it himself in the royal family. As far as he was aware, blue eyes were a trait of House Tully… and of House Baratheon.
Jon jumped up from his crouch, and almost fell into the book shelves. On instinct he tried to balance himself with his right hand, which sent a searing jolt of pain through his arm again. He only barely kept himself from screaming.
"Jon?" Mormont suddenly called out. "Find anything?"
He cursed to himself and quickly let the necklace drop into his pocket. The Lord Commander couldn't know, at least not until Jon had talked to Elle first.
"No," Jon answered.
He needed to speak to Elle. To confirm it for himself and give her a chance to explain.
But before he could do any of that, Mormont took him and brought him straight to Maester Aemon to get his hand looked at. Jon tried to protest, telling the men his hand felt fine and that he was tired and wanted to go to sleep.
Actually, neither of those things was true. His hand still hurt like shit, and he was wide awake. Fatigue had no space in his mind.
But despite everything, he was forced to sit with Aemon, having him treat and bandage his hand. All the while it felt like the necklace was burning a hole in his pocket. Multiple times the maester had to tell him to stay calm, mistaking his constant fidgeting for agitation over what he had seen. Which, yes, was true technically, but not in the way the man thought.
While he was sitting there, on that chair in the maester's quarters, Jon turned his findings around and around in his mind, trying to find flaws in them. But there were none. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. And he hated it.
Ghost had stayed with him the entire time, acting like a life line for Jon. The wolf sat on his left side - his good side at the moment, but also the one with the necklace in his pocket. It felt like the wolf knew of the weight it carried. Perhaps he had known ever since he first met the girl it belonged to.
When he was finally finished with Maester Aemon, he was held back once again. Mormont tried to explain to him about how the Lord Commander's tower had become uninhabitable for the time being, meaning they both had to find new quarters. Which, according to the old bear, would be located in the King's Tower. Where Elle was.
After Mormont started rehashing the events of this night, Jon interrupted him, perhaps a bit too harshly, telling him he needed to go to sleep. That the day had been a lot for him and he needed to work through things on his own before he could properly discuss them. Thankfully, the man believed his lies and led him to his quarters.
Jon decided to wait a short while to make sure the Lord Commander was truly gone, and that no one was coming to check on him. It felt like the longest time in his life.
Finally he decided he has had enough. He opened the door quietly and stepped out onto the stairs. Slowly, he made the descent upwards - Ghost by his side, as always.
While carefully navigating the dark tower, he wondered how he should approach the subject. He couldn't be too direct with her, fearing that scaring her would deter her from telling him the truth. But he needed to know, and know right now.
Sooner than he wanted, he stood at the very top of the stairs, in front of an old door. The wood was already starting to rot, chipping away at the edges. He raised his hand and knocked twice.
He didn't even know if she would be here. What if she was hiding because she had been scared by the wight? What if she was talking to Mormont right at this very moment? What if-
The door opened with a horrible creak and in front of him stood Elle.
For the first time since he had met her, he saw her without a braid. Her hair fell down in curls just below her shoulders. It made her look different, but he couldn't tell exactly how.
"Jon." She looked tired. "Is everything alright? Did something happen?"
He wanted to answer, wanted to say any of the thousands of things swirling around in his head, but instead he simply took out the necklace from his pocket and held it up, the pendant dangling between them.
"I think this belongs to you."
Her face fell. Elle stared at the necklace, then at him. The fear showed itself blatantly in her eyes.
Jon wished he had approached the situation differently. Perhaps he could have started by saying he didn't mean her any harm, that he just wanted to know the truth. Or tell her what he already knew, to ease her worries.
Carefully, as if she expected him to lash out, Elle reached out and took the necklace out of his hand. He let her.
"Thank you," she said softly, "for returning it to me." Her hands ran along the chain, inspecting the damage. She looked at him again. "This necklace means a great deal to me."
He wanted to say something, but he still didn't know what. Should he tell her he knew about her parents? Ask her why she had lied?
Thankfully, Elle took that decision from him.
"Come in. I think I have a lot to explain to you."
Jon stepped into the room and she closed the door behind them. His gaze wandered around, inspecting the sparsely furnished interior. It looked no different than his quarters just below. A fire burnt in the hearth at the back wall.
He turned towards her. Elle played around with her necklace, her other hand absentmindedly petting Ghost's head in small and repeated movements, looking so different from the proud and confident girl he had come to know.
"Go on. Ask whatever you need to."
"Who are you?" Jon said slowly.
She took a breath. "My name is Cerelle Baratheon, eldest daughter of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister."
There it was. The truth.
Elle was a princess. And not just any princess, but the princess. The one every person in Westeros had heard about. The one everyone sang songs about. The one everyone had thought dead.
"Why are you here?" Jon asked. "I mean, how did you disappear, and how did you end up at the Wall?"
"That is a long story."
"I have time." He sat down on one of the old chairs by the window, looking at her expectedly.
He was intrusive, basically forcing her to tell him about herself. But he needed to know.
Elle huffed, but she sat down across from him, Ghost resting his head in her lap.
"Before I start, I want you to know that not everything I have told you was a lie. Most of it was not. I just adjusted some details and left out others."
He nodded. Elle took a breath.
"As you know, I was raised in the Red Keep in the beginning of my childhood. And I do not want to sound like I am complaining about living in a castle and always having more food to eat than anyone could consume in a year, but-" She stopped, grasping for words. "It is hard never feeling seen. Always having all of your worries ignored and never having anyone take your side. Being taken for granted."
"But you were a princess," Jon said.
"Not every family is as perfect as yours. Especially if everyone is under pressure from the entire court to be perfect all the time. There is not much space left to be a real person anymore." She laughed. "I know I must sound silly."
"You don't. And I understand what you are feeling." He hesitated. "But even House Stark isn't all what it's made out to be."
She cocked her head, studying him for a few moments before she asked, "Your father's wife?"
He nodded.
She smiled softly, and that somehow filled his body with a sense of warmth.
"I am sorry for assuming. I think too much about myself sometimes."
"It's alright. I haven't really given you much incentive to think otherwise." He gave a short wave with his hand. "Please, continue."
"Of course." She straightened her back. "There were a lot of incidents that showed me that no one in that castle truly cared about me, but the height of it came when I got betrothed. To your brother, of all people." She laughed for some reason. "My father had just won the Greyjoy Rebellion, where he had fought alongside your father. Apparently, he had had the time of his life, because when he came back he talked about nothing but wanting to unite our families. And he wanted to use me to do that.
"I protested. Told him my place was here, with my family, in the only home I had ever known. I did not want to live out the rest of my days in a cold, barren wasteland, next to some stuck-up prick I did not even know. No offence."
"None taken."
"I thought my mother would be on my side, and she tried, but it did not take long for her to give in to my father. As always. My uncle tried to calm me down, telling me everything would be alright, but I knew it would not be. My father always got his way. So I ran."
"Over a betrothal?"
"It was not just the betrothal, Jon. It was everything leading up to it. Every small action that showed me I was only a piece in their game, something to push around whatever way they saw fit. Every moment that showed me they all prefered my brother over me. I would not have been able to put it into words back then as properly as I do now, but it was what I felt."
She pulled a knee towards her chest. Ghost had long since curled up around her feet.
"I still remember that night as if it happened yesterday. A snow storm had covered the city, and my mother had entered labour. She would end up giving birth to a brother I have never met - though I only found out about his existence long after I arrived in Sunspear." She shook her head. "No one in the castle had paid any attention to me, as usual, and I saw that as my way out. I grabbed my things, climbed down my window and over the castle walls. The snow covered my tracks. I snuck onto a ship and was gone before the sun had appeared. All the while forcing myself not to think about what I was leaving behind."
Jon tried to imagine Elle as a child, scared and lost, feeling so lonely she thought running away was her only option. He did believe her when she said that the betrothal was merely the last of many incidents, but he wondered what some of the others could have been.
Another time.
"I did not know the ship would bring me to Braavos, but some part of me was glad I did not end up somewhere people would recognise me."
"So, what you told me about Braavos…"
"It was a half-truth. But what came afterwards - Oberyn finding me and taking me to Sunspear - that was the truth."
"Did he know who you were?"
"Oh, he did. He figured out I was Westerosi shortly after meeting me and from there on it only took a bit more prodding and he had the truth."
"How did you two even meet?"
Elle laughed. "I kind of stole his money and his dagger. He followed me to my hideout and demanded his coins back, but he let me keep the dagger." She raised her right arm where she had it hidden, before dropping it again.
"What was Braavos like?"
"Cold, for the most part. I spent six moons there, in the deep of winter, so the most I cared about was staying alive. Which was easier than you might imagine. As it turns out, people love to help lost little girls, especially if they find them cowering behind their houses in the dark." Her gaze darkened for the shortest moment. "Whatever. It does not matter.
"What does matter is that Oberyn found me and brought me to Sunspear. He promised to keep me safe and care for me, but that he could only do that if we pretended I was his daughter. He had already had seven daughters, and one of them had blonde hair like me, therefore no one would raise many questions.
"And I truly loved it there. I was allowed - encouraged even - to do whatever I wanted and it did not matter what it was. I remember that one day I watched Oberyn sparring in the yard and I was so amazed by it that I went to him afterwards and told him I wanted to learn what he did. And then he taught me. Which is something my mother would have never allowed. Oberyn nudged me in a few directions he wanted me in, of course, but he was so kind and forthcoming with it that I did not dare refuse.
"I was allowed to have friends outside of court, and I had sisters who actually cared about me and wanted to spend time with me. Oberyn took me to see places away from the palace and encouraged me to question the way things worked."
She took a shaky breath and turned her smile towards Jon. "It was the right place for me."
"Then why did you leave?"
"I-" She shook her head. "I have already told you that. I wanted to see places outside of Dorne, but because Oberyn has responsibilities there he could not join me. So I went alone."
He felt like she was lying again. She had told him so many truths tonight, but this was the one thing he was certain wasn't one.
Whatever. She'd had her reasons to lie about her heritage, there must be a reason to lie about this as well.
They sat in silence. Elle stared out of the window towards the starry sky, and Jon stared at her.
He studied her face, her body, her demeanour. The way her hair fell over her shoulders, the way her slender fingers wrapped around her necklace, the way she never seemed to lose control of any of her features. She was the spitting image of Queen Cersei, and he was ashamed how he had never noticed. He had met her mother, and the rest of her family. And yet some brown dye had thrown him off. He hoped there was nothing else he had missed about her.
Thinking about her parents…
Jon had befriended an actual princess. And not just befriended her, but gotten uncomfortably close to her as well. And she apparently didn't mind. In fact, she seemed as if she actively enjoyed his company. Lady Stark would likely collapse on the spot.
"So," Elle broke the silence. "What does it feel like to be privy to the greatest secret in Westeros?"
"I'm still trying to connect the girl I've got to know to the stories of the wayward princess I heard growing up."
She laughed. "Yes, I suppose that could be difficult."
"Who else knows about it?"
"Just Oberyn and Doran." She cocked her head with a smile. "And you now."
He smirked. "Shall I call you Cerelle then?"
"Please do not!" It felt good seeing her laugh again. He wondered what she would look like with her natural hair, dressed in the finery befitting a princess. "Apart from that revealing my secret, I like people calling me by the name I chose for myself. Especially the one that I connect so many good memories with."
"I cannot believe it took me so long to figure it out. If only I had remembered your real name." He laughed. "I mean, from Cerelle to Elle?"
"Stop laughing!" Though she couldn't keep herself from joining him. "I was seven years old. You try come up with a good lie at that age!"
"I would have likely named myself after Daeron."
She chuckled. "I suppose I could have called myself Ceryse or Alicent. But I am happy with Elle."
"Well, it is a beautiful name, even in its simplicity."
"It sounds good with Jon as well."
He blushed.
Silence fell between them once again, and he wished he could freeze this moment, to stay with her, beside her. But he couldn't.
"I should probably return to my quarters," he said. Before I do something I regret.
Elle nodded, and Jon liked to think that the sad look on her face wasn't completely in his imagination.
Ghost looked quite annoyed at being awoken from his nap, only slowly rising to his feet and following Jon to the door.
He stepped out into the staircase, his wolf only following after Elle had given him one final pet. Jon turned back to her.
"Thank you," she said, "for listening to me. And for not immediately running to Mormont."
"Thank you, for trusting me with this."
She smiled before closing the door, leaving him standing in the dark of the tower stairwell.
Elle was a princess and he was one of the only people who knew. The greatest secret in all of Westeros, now in his hands. He knew he would never tell anyone, his friendship with Elle too important to him.
As he entered his quarters and started getting ready for bed, he felt like he had to remind himself of that. That the thing between them was nothing more than friendship. He was a brother of the Night's Watch and she was a princess. Neither of them was allowed more. And there was nothing more.
Even though he desperately wanted there to be.
asdkfjlsadkjf i've been waiting for SO LONG to finally post this. the chapter might also be my favourite of this entire saga (so far, book five might change this hehe).
please please plEASE tell me what you think about this reveal. i think the clues i gave you were sufficient but i also have access to every piece of information so my perception might be slightly skewered.
do go and annoy me on my tumblr ( siravalondulac) if you want to talk about this story and (cer)elle with me hihi
if not then until next week 3