Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun
Chapter Thirty-Five.
Elia was still not happy to be trapped in Casterly Rock as she was but after a time she had found that her sadness had...not faded, to be exact but she found that she could bare it much more easily now. There were still moments when she felt like bursting into tears but she seemed to find that the more time passed, the more she found sadness to be natural to her. Like it seemed to be a constant companion to her. She had learned to deal with it, though that fact did not bring her much joy.
It warred with her loneliness as to what seemed to control her, she was not truly alone of course as Clara seemed to follow her every step and the only time that she left her company was when she went to go and eat her dinner or when she went to report on her, she wasn't sure if the girl was Lord Tywin's creature of Lady Genna's but she supposed in the end it didn't really matter.
She didn't blame the girl for reporting on her, she was simply doing as she was bid and she had only been ordered to be her maid and she had only been so for a little over two moons. She had no loyalty to her and Elia had no right to expect the girl to have any loyalty to her. Who would defy the Old Lion or the Lioness when you lived in their den and were always at their mercy?
The girl wasn't her only companion of course, Lady Dorna had been her companion as well and Elia got the feeling that the older woman felt as lonely as Elia did. The woman was not a bad person, Elia was certain of that. Most of the time they had spent together the older woman spent it praying when she wasn't sewing and imploring Elia to join her. Most of the time Elia agreed, so long as Dorna understood that she preferred to pray silently. It at the very least gave her some quiet.
She sometimes brought her daughters with her but that was a rarity, Cerenna was not adapt at sitting still for long and she had no interest in needlework which still caused a great deal of embarrassment for her mother. Her infant daughter was much more agreeable, Myrielle was a happy babe that seemed to love being held and laughter came easy to her but Elia did not feel the joy that should surely come naturally to anyone when a babe laughed, all she felt was that deep sadness within her growing in it's intensity.
She had been wondering what her and Ned's baby would look like? It would it be a boy or a girl? Would it have her curly dark hair, her black eyes, her ill heath? Would it have Ned's brown hair? His grey eyes that reminded her of summer snows or his lips which Elia never loved more than when she managed to convince him to smile? Dorna was smarter than she seemed as she had noticed that she was upset and had not brought Myrielle with her again.
The only other companion she had was her babe, it seemed to be moving more and more and Elia hated it, hated the fact that it was moving and when she realised that she hated herself more. She wanted Ned to be here with her, she wanted to have his hand on her belly so she could feel their child move but he wasn't here. He was a thousand miles away from her.
In her lowest moments, she wondered what he was doing. She wondered if he even missed her, was he begging his father to raise up armies to get her back or was he just sitting around in Winterfell, barely even noticing that she had gone. She knew that it was ridiculous, she knew that Ned loved her. He had proven that to her before but the fact of the matter was that she had no idea what her husband, or her brothers, were doing.
Elia had championed patience and she had not regretted that, she didn't want war. She didn't want thousands of men dying in her name, she didn't want Oberyn to die in her name, she didn't want her husband to die because of her and leave her child without a father, she didn't want thousands of Dornishmen and North men to die and be sent back home to their mothers and wives and sisters and brothers and fathers. She truly didn't want anyone to die.
Her thoughts turned towards Kevan and Dorna's only son and eldest child, Devan, he was a lad of ten and was squiring for a knight that Elia had seen around Casterly Rock. If it came to war then he would have to go with that knight, clean his sword and help him dress in his armour and prepare his meals. And he would be expected to fight as well, and die if needed be. A boy, and men three times his age would kill him.
Elia didn't want that. She didn't want anything like that but every day that there was no word about Dorne or the North rising up their banners in revolt a tiny voice at the back of her head told her that she had been forgotten. She always tried to tell herself that it was ridiculous, Ned wouldn't forget about her and neither would Oberyn but the problem was that as much as she loved it wasn't them that was going to be able to save her, it all came back to Lord Rickard and to Doran.
They were the only ones who could command their banners to rise up their forces if it came to it, the only ones who could give them the order to march. Doran was her brother and Elia loved him greatly but she knew that Doran would not go to war lightly and would only go if he saw no other option. She normally always agreed with her brother when it came to his decisions but now she was on the other side of it and while she didn't want war the fact that her older brother seemed to be doing nothing, not even asking for her back even though it would be pointless, stung.
Lord Rickard she could understand more, she was only his good daughter and she couldn't expect him to put her above his people. Her mother had always taught them that a liege lord must always be willing to put the people they ruled over above anything else, even the people that they loved. Ned could implore that his father act but the final decision would be his.
She wondered how much longer it would be until they acted, the babe would not be inside of her much longer. Each day that passed filled her with dread as she realised that she was more and more likely to give birth to it here. And she didn't want that, she wanted to back in Winterfell with the Maester and Ashara and Catelyn and even Lyanna to help her, she wanted Ned to be outside the door with his brothers and his father just barely being able to hold him back from bursting into the room. She wanted to see the look on his face as she handed the babe over to him, fitting it into his arms and watching as he looked down at the life they had created together. She wanted to hold her babe while she was surrounded by people she loved.
Elia's eyes burned as she ripped her gaze away from her hands and stared across the room and out the window, the view was as lovely as ever, the sky a lovely peach colour as the sun hid behind the clouds but the sight of it did little to cheer her. Far below, even from where she was sitting, she could hear the sounds of waves crashing against the stone of the Rock. It was like the sound of war drums, it almost manage to cover up Dorna's prayers.
The older woman was with her today, along with Clara, and at the moment she was reading from the seven pointed star with all of her attention focused on to the sacred text. The amount of times that Dorna read that book Elia was certainly that she would have it committed to memory, gods, Elia probably knew a great deal of it by now as well. She had read the holy book of the faith before but it was never something she spent a great deal of time dwelling on.
Dorna had said that prayer could be the thing that could save you in the middle of the darkest nights, it could offer some light. Elia was more certain that it would be steel or blood that would save her, or damn her. There were times when she couldn't seem to remember what the difference was. Still, the woman was kind and the woman was lonely and Elia did not have it in her to be cruel to her and she was only trying to help her, to make her feel better and so Elia bore her preaching with a smile on her face.
Clara seemed decidedly less patient with her, a small frown on her face as she gazed without seeing at a wall, it didn't surprise Elia that the girl was bored, she was young and could've been doing anything at that moment but instead she was forced to sit in a room as listen to an old woman drone on and on about the gods. It was odd but perhaps Elia could use that, if she hated hearing Dorna preach then Elia could invite the woman to spend more time with her, it might drive Clara to ask for a different duty. She did not hate Clara but that did not change the fact that she was a spy and Elia needed to be ride of her, of course she would be replaced but while whoever her master was choosing who would replace her Elia could think of a way out of this, she could speak to Tyrion without having to worry that the girl would be listening to every word that she spoke to him and would then run to tell on her.
Of course that was working on the assumption that her master would care that she was bored out of her skull listening to Dorna pray and if she was ordered to spy on her by Tywin then she doubted very much that he would care, or that Clara would be brave enough to complain about it. Genna might listen to her but she doubted that the older woman would allow the girl to leave Elia's service.
Every time it seemed that Elia had an idea as to how she could find a way out of this terrible ordeal it always seemed that she thought of something that made her realise that there was something wrong with her plan or that the plan wouldn't truly matter in the end, she could think of a way to get out of Casterly Rock easily enough but so far the best plan she had thought up only ended with her getting as far as Lannisport. She could try to hide in the walled city but she had no friends there and when Tywin Lannister came looking for her there was no one that would hide her then.
She was so very weary of all of this, most days all she wanted to do now was stay in her bed and sleep. Not that her wish was ever granted to her as Clara always bid her to rise, when she wasn't forced to sit and sew and pray she was often invited to sit with Lady Genna and her ladies, she had noticed that most of Genna's ladies and her maids were closer to their lady in age and that made Elia think that Clara was in fact Lord Tywin's creature as if Genna had sent her than Elia imagined that she would have been older.
Tyrion would often come and sit with her and he was capable of making her laugh, a rare feat now it seemed. Still, aside from making her laugh there was little that he could do to truly help her. He could order servants to bring them wine or something to eat if they were hungry but that was the limits of his powers. He could hardly order them not to tell his father what they were speaking off, they would do it regardless and Tyrion would have to suffer the consequences of that.
She seemed a small boat, in the middle of a storming sea at the mercy of the seas and the winds and all she could do was try and keep herself together while greater forces than her decided her fate. Perhaps she would remain a prisoner in Casterly Rock for the rest of her days and grow to an old maid, her child who would have the blood of Queen Nymeria and the Kings of Winter, would be forced to serve as a common household knight if he was a boy or be forced to wait on a lady if she was a girl. Elia couldn't let that happen, she would not let that happen.
The only problem was that she had no idea what she could about it.
Elia kept her gaze out through the window and the sound of the crashing waves and the sound of Dorna reading from the book started to sound much the same as each other, in it's own way it became quite soothing and she felt herself beginning to tire. It was rude to fall asleep when someone was speaking of course but if Dorna noticed, which was unlikely as she never noticed when Clara fell asleep which was almost every time, she could just blame it on the babe tiring her.
Just as she was about to slip off of the cliff edge and fall into the darkness of sleep, there was a sharp rap on the door of her room and that jolted her awake. Clara rose to her feet and Dorna stopped reading from the book as the younger woman made it to the door and opened it so she could peer outside to see who had knocked. Clara turned to face her. "It is Ser Jaime, Princess. He asks if he might come in."
Elia nodded before she rubbed at her eyes to try and wake herself some more, it would do no good to appear tired. Clara pulled the door open all of the way so that Jaime could step through. He seemed paler than usual and smaller as well, she supposed that it was to be expected after a man was wound. His shoulder and arm were still wrapped in layers of white silk and were tied in such a way that his arm was pressed close to his chest, to restrict the movement that he was allowed, the Maester had said as he was worried that free movement might worsen the wound and cause it to fester, and if that happened he would have no choice but to remove the entire arm at the shoulder.
Tyrion had been wounded as well from his and Jaime's little adventure, a small puckered wound that had resulted from when he had been poked hard with his brother's spear when it had been stolen from Jaime by a robber. The wound had since scabbed over and all that was left of it now was a tiny white scar on the Dwarf's face, about the size of a copper.
Tyrion said that it made him more handsome, Elia hadn't been able to stop herself from laughing at that. It felt good to know that she could still laugh, even if the thing she laughed about wasn't truly very funny. It had been the closest to happy that she had felt in a very long time.
"Jaime! I am so glad to see you up and about!" Dorna said with a bright smile as she closed her book and stood up, pressing a kiss to both of his cheeks which Jaime accepted with surprising grace. "We've all been praying for you to recover, are you feeling better?"
"I am auntie, thank you." Jaime said as he ducked his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, though it seemed more dutiful than out of any actual affection. Jaime pulled back from the older woman and he turned his gaze on to Elia, to her surprise she saw something in the younger man's eyes that she had not seen before, it almost looked like regret. "Alas auntie, is not you who I have come to speak to. Princess, I wonder if we might speak alone for a moment, perhaps you would be so kind as to join me for a little walk. Just you and I."
Elia frowned, trying to think of any reason why Ser Jaime would wish to speak to her and not being able to think of one, their last conversation had not ended well and had just left her with more questions. Still, she couldn't say no to him, that was the tricky thing about being a captive. Even if the people holding you were just as unhappy to have you and you were unhappy to be had.
So Elia pushed herself up from her chair, keeping one hand on her bump as the movement seemed to have roused the babe somewhat, and painted a smile on her face. "I would enjoy that a great deal Ser Jaime, do we have a destination in mind or shall we simply wander?"
To give Jaime some credit, he was at least smart enough to realise that Elia did not seem at all happy with going with him but he did not rescind his invitation either. Clara asked her if she would like her to accompany her but it was Jaime who answered by telling her that she would not be needed, Dorna happily said that Clara could stay and pray with her and the girl looked like she would be more happy having her tongue removed with red hot piercers.
Jaime offered his hand and Elia took it with as much grace as she could muster, it was hard to be graceful when you were tired. Not just tired as in she wanted to fall on to her bed and sleep but tired of everything, tired of waking up. Tired of eating, tired of breathing. The way her thoughts had been going lately...it scared her, it scared her beyond any measure and she sometimes wondered that if it weren't for the babe that was growing inside of her...
She couldn't think like that, she wouldn't allow herself too. She rubbed at her eyes quickly and shoved that thought to the back of her mind, refusing to dignify it by giving anymore thought to it. Ser Jaime lead her through the long and high corridors of the Rock, every now and then there was a gust of cold wind that caused the flames of the torches to flicker and throw long shadows and caused Elia to clutch her cloak closer to herself to try and shield herself from the worst of it.
It was odd, she had never felt cold in Winterfell. Oh, when she had first come to the North she had been freezing and she had been terrified that Winterfell would bleak and cold and grim and there wouldn't be a moment where she was not sick but she had never been cold in Winterfell, not if she didn't want to be. Water from the springs underneath the great castle had been carried around the castle through pipes like blood had been carried through a man's body by his veins. Winterfell had never been unwelcoming.
And in her mind, that made it greater than Casterly Rock could ever hope to be. She wanted to see it again, she didn't want this cold and gloomy place to be the thing that she would see for the rest of her life.
Elia was brought out of her thoughts when she and Jaime had taken a different turn than normally, it would seem that it would take them away from the surface and deeper into the Rock. "Well, I must admit that this is something new to me. I have never truly felt the urge to explore the Rock before, not that I have had many opportunities to do so." She tried to sound more interested than she felt but she was fairly certain that she could not quiet manage it.
Ser Jaime seemed to notice as well, a small frown had found a place on his face and Elia noticed that it seemed almost unnatural. His was not a face that was made for frowning but, and although it was petty and cruel of her, a part of her couldn't help but indulge in his sorrow. His actions had brought great sorrow on to her, it was only fair that he had his own little sorrow as well, even if it was only just because he had lost the use of his sword arm for a while.
"I am sorry." Jaime said and his voice brought Elia out of her spiteful thoughts and she turned to look at the man walking next to her, and now that she looked at him, truly looked at him, she could see the truth of it. The look on his face was shame, he was ashamed. "I knew that I said I would not apologise for what I did but I was wrong, I am sorry for what I did. I can't explain why I did it, you wouldn't understand but I am sorry. I didn't mean for you to be separated from your husband, that wasn't meant to happen."
Elia honestly had no idea what she was to say to that, the last time she had spoken to the older Lannister brother he had seen utterly unrepentant about what he had done. He had almost acted like he had done it for her, she had given up trying to figure out why he had done it. It was certainly not because he was in love with her, he had admitted to that much. A part of her thought that it had just been a fit of madness and for a moment she remember the stories that had gone around the kingdoms about the Lady Joanna and the King...
It suddenly struck her that they had come to a stop in the passageway and were staring at one another, Jaime Lannister staring into her eyes. Elia brought up her hand to her mouth and cleared her throat. "Well, I thank you for apologising to me Ser Jaime, it is very kind of you but in truth there is no need. You did not mean for this to happen, regardless I do appreciate it. I forgive you."
"No, you don't. You don't forgive me, you are still angry with me, a part of you might even hate me." Elia opened her mouth to respond, she didn't know if she was going to deny it or if she was going to scream at him but before she could Jaime held up his hand and she closed her mouth. "Don't deny it Princess, I may not be the smartest man in the realm but I assure you I am not so much the handsome fool as everyone seems to think. I do not expect you to forgive me, that wasn't the point. I just wanted you to know that."
"Well...now I do, now I know that you are sorry for what you have done to me. For ruining my life." Elia was surprised at the bitterness that filled her words and how exhilarated she felt when she saw the shame on Jaime's face grow. "Now that I know, might I be allowed to return to my room? I suddenly find myself to be quiet tired, it may be that I am taking a turn."
"No, not yet. There is something that I want you to see first." Jaime offered his arm and Elia took it with a sigh, it wasn't courteous but she found that she didn't have the energy to keep her armour up anymore. "I promise that as soon as you see this you may return to your rooms, but I think you will be surprised."
A silence fell on them then, any words would simply be uncomfortable talk with no real point to it, and before too long they arrive at two large wooden doors that had splintered with age. Ser Jaime reached out with his free hand and grabbed at the iron ring with his free hand and pulled with all the strength he had, unfortunately while the door opened a crack it did not fully open and Elia had to help Jaime in finally getting it open, though it tired them both.
When Elia gazed through the open doorway her breath was stolen from her lungs and she barely felt her legs carrying her through into the chamber beyond. It was a large chamber that was the shape of an egg and it was made purely of grey stone. There were no windows and the only light that came was from the torches that lined the outside passageway.
Even with that limited amount of light it did not strain her mind to see that the large tree in the middle of the chamber was a weirwood tree, it was not so large as the one back in Winterfell's godwood but it was by no means a small tree, it's wood was pale, even paler than usual but Elia imagined that was due that there was little light that it could drink down here. It's roots were massive, as large as lesser tree's trunks and while some burrowed into the earth some had crawled towards the doorway while others were climbing the walls.
Almost as if it was trying to escape.
"What is this place?" She whispered as she stepped towards the tree, taking care to step over the roots and piles of red leaves that had been laid about. Her voice had been a whisper but the chamber had made it sound like she had shouted it at the top of her voice as her question echoed all around her, in truth she did not need it answered. There was a face carved into the weirwood's trunk, it was a heart tree. This was a godswood.
"This is the Stone Garden, this is the godswood." Jaime said as he stayed near the door, he sounded uncomfortable which Elia could understand. She had felt uncomfortable when she had entered the Winterfell godswood, it was as if the old gods hadn't wanted her there. She had been more than happy to stay out of it after her woods had been said and her married to Ned complete.
Elia sat down on one of the roots, it was so wide that she could lay on it like a lounger and stretch out her arms and her fingers would only just barely go over the sides, and stared into the carved face which was weeping it's red tears. It was odd but she did not feel uncomfortable here, or not as uncomfortable as she had been in Winterfell. Perhaps the Old Gods had accepted her, perhaps they were showing her some mercy because she was carrying a Stark within her, or perhaps what the northerners said was true. The Old Gods had no true power here, most of the weirwoods south of the Neck had been cut down or burned.
"It is beautiful, but I do not worship the Old Gods, Ser Jaime. I do not understand why you have brought me here?"
"Most south of the Neck don't, poor Auntie Dorna has begged my father to get rid of this place. She said it will bring the wrath of the gods down on us but he doesn't listen to her, we would have to rip up the stone and who knows how far down the roots go. But no one ever comes here, no one. I thought that it might be a place you could come where you might have some peace." Jaime glanced down at his feet. "A place where you could think."
It was such a simple gesture, such a sweet gesture that it took all Elia had not to break down weeping. She turned her face away from Jaime and closed her eyes, all she could hear was her own breathing and the sound of the waves rolling into the water caverns far below, it sounded like thunder. It was so peaceful and for a moment, she realised something. She could finally breath. That finally brought tears to her eyes.
She didn't know how long she sat there, she prayed though not to any god in particular. All she did was pray that she would see Ned again, that she would be home before her babe was ready to be born. She stood up from the root after letting out a deep breath and opened her eyes before she turned to look at Ser Jaime, stepping towards him.
"You were right, I did not forgive you. I do not forgive you, I can't. Not yet." Ser Jaime did not seem hurt, he seemed resigned as if he knew that this was what she was always going to say to him. "But this was...a great kindness to me, Ser Jaime. And I promise you. I will not forget it." Elia leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Jaime's cheek, she could feel the beginning of blond stubble under her lips.
As she pulled back Elia saw something that she hadn't seen before.
She saw Jaime Lannister smile.
End of Chapter Thirty-Five.
Well, there we go. Another chapter down and I really enjoyed writing this one though it went on longer than I though it would, I didn't think this would go over three thousand words.
Now, on a personal note in two days time this story will be a year old and I would just like to thank everyone that followed, favourited and reviewed this story. I would like to thank those that praised me and I would like to thank those who offered constructive criticism. Because of you, I am becoming a better writer. I truly do believe that.
I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter and I think that the next chapter will be a Doran one as he deals with the fact that he has basically taken a not inconsiderable number of Dornish nobles as his "guests".
See you all then.
Love,
Doctorwhofan12345.