Elia IV

Warning: Included is violence against women. I tried to keep it only as harsh as it needed to be.

Panic.

That was what had seized the city since word had arrived the last night. Sheer, unadulterated panic.

Elia watched from the Red Keep as the gates of King's Landing were now locked and guarded, to keep all in and out of the city. The remnants of the army had, mostly the recent levies from King's Landing itself, had began to trickle in during the middle of the night some six days ago. By the morning after, there was panic all around. The squares and roads were filled with mobs of smallfolk, almost all trying to flee from the city, which was filled with a panic about the inevitable destruction that the Rebel Army would surely bring.

The Gold Cloaks had managed to hold six of the seven gates closed. The seventh, the Iron Gate, had however been a disaster. The people of Flea Bottom, the poorest and most densely populated section of the city, had made such a rush at the gate closest to their slum that there had been a great crush against the gate, until the guards had been forced to open the gate simply to keep iron hinges from being ripped off. There were dozens if not hundreds of bodies, including the commander of the gate, though it had taken until the next day to actually count them up. Now, however, there were no other ways to escape, as there could be no chances taken that some rebels might slip in and open the gates themselves.

Though it wasn't just poor smallfolk fleeing the city. Elia turned her attention to the harbor, and remembered a small personal galley of Willem Darry, Master-of-arms of the Red Keep. On that ship, Aerys had sent his wife, who was now pregnant again, and Prince Viserys, Aerys only living son. Elia envied the two of them, as they were now safe not just from the rebel army and what it might do, but also the cruel fancies of the Mad King.

Elia and her children had not been so lucky. Aerys II had declared that the only reason the army had been defeated had been Dornish treachery. He would keep Elia and her children as hostages to make sure Dorne would not openly declare as the rebels he thought them to be. So she and her children and Mata Sand had been stuck here, waiting for events to force their hands.

'And yet despite claiming that it is my family who are the traitors,' Elia thought bitterly, remembering the way Aerys's cracked lips had curled up as soon as he had heard the results of the Battle of the Trident, 'It was you who was most glad to hear of your son's defeat,' the image of a handsome man with silver blonde hair and violet eyes crossed her mind, 'Gods, I just…I just don't know what to think anymore.'

Though really, it all didn't matter much anymore. Aerys was undertaking his plan with the Wisdoms, having produced huge amounts of wildfire, and having Onos Maghagon come and inspect it and prepare his spell. Elia had kept her distance, though it seemed Jaime had begun to do what she had asked of him, as there was already new of the death of Balis.

Still, that seemed to have come too late for Aerys' previous hand of the King. Elia could remember hearing Qarlton Chested's screams. The man she had once considered nothing but a spineless worm had shown immense courage in disagreeing with Aerys's plans and threatening to reveal the plot to the whole of the city. And that courage had cost him his life, as he had been doused with unmodified Wildfire and set alight.

And yet, now the plan was in place. Tywin Lannister was marching to Kings Landing, and by almost every factor should be arriving at the Lion's Gate soon. Elia sighed, and again returned to the cradle where her little Aegon rested. He was sleeping now, after a long day of play, innocent to the world that was burning around him. Innocent to the tragedy he had suffered so badly.

'You'll never know your father,' Elia thought, rubbing the surface of her fingernails along the sleeping boy's cheeks, 'He will only exist in story and song,' she shook her head, her mind turning to the boy's slightly older sister, 'though perhaps…that is a mercy.'

Rhaenys didn't understand. Not really. The girl adored her father, despite his long absences, and she feared how she would truly explain his death to her. There were days she still would go to her husband's rooms, and ask about when the Prince would return. The thought of finally having to explain to her that she would never see her father among the living again hurt Elia. Yet it would hurt Rhaenys even more.

Elia's mind then returned to the hidden passage in Rhaenys's room. Part of her thought now was the time. She could get her children and Mata, and then go down to that small alcove and call Varys's men to come and find them. They would finally be out of the way of this wretched city, and out of the way of whatever plans Aerys or Tywin or the rebels had. Yet that would mean allowing herself and her children to be caught in whatever web the Spider had spun for her, and that might be even worse. She trusted the eunuch almost not all, and would not date put up her children to his mercies if she could help it.

'Rhaegar always said that Varys was the most dangerous creature in the Court,' she regained the image of her husband, tall and handsome, and the worried look on his face as he spoke about the courtier from the east, 'Gods…Rhaegar.'

…

'I miss you,' she thought, feeling tears well up around her eyes, 'Gods, I miss you. I thought you'd killed my love. Yet in reality, it was just another thing you couldn't quite beat, despite your many attempts,' she shook her head, 'Just like Robert Baratheon,' she looked down back at the bay, and down into the waters beneath King's Landing, 'What would you do now,' she thought, 'I can't help but think you'd know…or at least think you'd know.'

She then heard a shout. Elia moved from the window over the sea, and instead to the one over the Courtyard. And in the courtyard, there was a massive amount of activity. Aerys had come out, and stood over the gate to Maegor's Holdfast. Around him were the Wisdoms of the Alchemist Guild, their eyes fixed to the west, to the Lion's Gate.

'So it's happening now,' Elia thought, and her eyes moved upward, so that they were on the same gate. And she could see now gathering soldiers on the other side. There was no doubt in her mind that these were not the rebels…or at least, not the ones that had slain her husband on the Trident those days ago.

No, these men were fresh, first of all, with their banners high and armor shining, and most obvious of all, were the sights of gold lions roaring upon long red banners. These were men of the Westerlands, Tywin Lannister's army. That meant that it was almost time for Aerys to implement the plan, to lure Tywin Lannister in, and use the magics that Onos had supposedly prepared for the sacrifice.

She could almost imagine the glee on the Mad King's face. He likely believed that he had everything he needed to show the world how much lesser it was before him. To show the world that it just wasn't his line that was draconic, but his very essence. To spread his wings, and give the world all the hate he had. After all, that was the one thing Aerys II was good at. Hating. He hated his wife, his sons, his grandchildren, his friends, his enemies. Aerys only had hate, and the world would feel it.

She watched silently, as the gates remained closed, and wondered what was taking so long. Perhaps Aerys was simply trying to make it seem like he was surprised by Tywin's arrival, to play on the old lion's ego. Finally, Aerys made a signal, and Elia could see the Lion's Gate open after only a few minutes.

And then they poured through. Hundreds of men came into the city, and Elia turned her attention back down to the location of Aerys. He raised his hands to the air, all the while visibly laughing, almost pretending to breath fire. Finally, when a particular group of horsemen rode through the gate, more than likely Tywin himself, Aerys slammed his hands together. Elia supposed that had been what the symbol for the activation of the spell that Onos had given them. For a moment, they all stood silent, with nothing happening. And then Aerys slammed his hands together again.

And then again.

And then again.

Elia couldn't help herself but burst out laughing. Aerys, constantly waving his arms and slapping his palms together as though he was clapping, seemed to be nothing so much as a scared little child. For the next few moments, all Elia could see was the man trying to call up the Wildfire the Eastern Man had given him, and yet no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't do anything.

Finally, after all that had happened, Aerys threw his hands up in rage, and then began pointing to the Wisdoms. The alchemists cowered, yet she could see that many of them were nodding. Before she knew what was happening, dozens of them were running off, most down out of the Red Keep. She had no idea what their plan could be, but the chances were high it might just be to find more wildfire.

Her attention was far more focused on the King. Ranting and raving, only joined by Rossart, he was marching back into the Red Keep, his arms flailing in rage as he did so. Elia almost wondered if it might be fun to go and listen to the Aerys's ravings, but she decided against it. After all, he still might have enough Wildfire to make her share the fate of poor Lord Chested. No, best to let Aerys's rage and sense of doom drag him down alone. Really, he was the one who had committed the crimes, so it would be fitting for Aerys to finally be the one to be punished.

Elia looked back up from the Courtyard towards the army flowing into the city, and paused. There was a lot of smoke around there. For a second, she wondered if the spell was just slow, and that the Wildfire was starting to burn. After a few seconds, however, she could see that these fires were spreading far too slowly to be that horrible substance. No, they were just normal fires.

And they were spreading. As she saw members of the Westerlands army advancing further into the city, slowly Elia could see the fires joining them. But it wasn't just fires. She could see the vague outlines of scrums and conflicts. Yet as her eyes adjusted, Elia realized that these fights weren't really fights at all. Rather, it was the soldiers of this new arriving army running down those before them.

"Oh no," Elia could see knights passing by some of these masses of soldiers murdering the small folk of King's Landing. Yet they either passed them by, or more horribly, began to join in the carnage. Elia could begin to see that the city had only been spared the horrors of Wildfire, it had not been spared the fate of death.

And out of the corner of her eye, Elia saw a small set of riders flying down the street of steel. While they were killing those that got in their way, they were not stopping to partake in the full slaughter. Rather, they were charging with all matter of haste down that street, and towards the Fishmonger's square. For a moment, she wondered if they were meant to open the Mudgate, but that passed as they tore right through the square.

As those riders charged through the square, Elia realized two things. Firstly, she realized that at the front of this group of riders was perhaps the largest man she'd ever laid her eyes on. She recognized the three black hounds on yellow anywhere, and her breath hitched at the thought of the Mountain being let loose for any kind of work. Secondly…

Secondly she saw that that with their path, they were on course to arrive at the Red Keep.

It had only taken her a moment to realize what she had to do. Elia had snatched up Aegon, and burst through the door of the Prince's nursery. She had to get up to Rhaenys playroom, where the little girl was being watched over by Mata. There, she and her family could take the small passage out.

'Gods, why must I rely on the Spider?' the eunuch's fake smile seemed to hang in Elia's eyes, but she pushed the bald spy master's image from her mind, 'He has offered me a way to save my children. Nothing good could be coming from the Mountain and his men being sent ahead of an army already in the process of putting the whole of the city to the sword.'

She pushed her way down the corridor, and down a hall of tapestries. Along them were some of the finest pieces of art from the reign of Aegon the Fifth, old Egg. She had spent time looking over them, but she had no time now, so she kept her feet moving, despite the stress and exertion beginning to wear her down.

Sweat was beginning to condense upon her brow. She did her best to keep from breathing aloud, just in case anyone was looking for her. Elia could not afford for any either the remaining of Aerys's guards or the Mountains raiders. She knew the Westerlanders were still likely on their way to the walls of the Red Keep, but she couldn't take any more time. Not when she knew she had a way out.

Finally, she made it to the door that led to the stairwell that would lead her up the last floor to her daughter's playroom. Elia grabbed the knob, making sure to keep her hold on Aegon as she did so. She took a second to look out the window right next to the well, and her eyes bulged. The Western quarter of King's Landing was covered in plumes of smoke floating into the sky. SHe could see small flickers of yellow and orange, fires from the sack most likely. ANd as she focused on what was happening, she could almost hear the screams and cries from the mercy from the smallfolk of the city.

'Gods…,' she thought, holding Aegon more tightly to her chest as she opened the door, 'It looks like-'

"Hell on Earth?"

Elia jumped backwards, and nearly lost her hold on her son. Standing in the doorway was a familiar bronze man, with long white hair flowing down his body. Onos Maghagon was standing there, a small smile on his face as he slowly paced his way out of the stair well, holding his hands behind his back.

Elia was now able to get a far better look at him than previously. His skin was as she had seen before, bronze, perhaps a bit brown, but as the light came in from the city it seemed to shine slightly. His long hair was swept of his head, and seemed to flow as a great cascade over his shoulders and to his back. He was heavily muscled, which were obvious through the tight fitting clothes around his body. Her eyes couldn't help but lower towards the mans chest, which were more muscled than any man should be capable of reaching. And his eyes were indeed an inversion, with white pupils on black.

No…it wasn't that his eyes were white on black. They weren't pupils at all, at least not as on any man or woman she'd ever met. They were stars. Bright balls of light that were actually shining, with constantly shifting edges that seemed to form spikes. And the blackness of the eyes…was blacker than anything she'd ever seen. It was like nothing could be blacker, and that the blackness was pulling her into the eyes themselves.

"Stuck around St. Petersburg," and Elia found herself pulled from the eyes as the man turned and looked out the window she had been gazing. He continued singing to himself as he gazed over the growing terror that was raging through the streets of King's Landing, "When I saw it was time for a change…"

"Wh-wha-what are you doing here?" she finally asked, gathering her feet and taking a firm stance. She heard a slight chuckle from the man, all the while his eyes were still focused on the ongoing sack.

"Well," he finally said, "I suppose you could say I'm just here to check on a few aspects of my machinations," he paused, and then added, "Brilliant word, machinations. Far better than mere plans, wouldn't you say?"

"What plans?" Elia cut through his question, at which she realized he had given her an audible sigh, "Do you speak of your deceit of the King," when he didn't react further, she pushed, "DO realize that if he gets his hands on you, you will burn in wildfire he is sure is able to be set alight."

"Remind me of home."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing to worry your pretty little head over," Onos finally turned his head to her, and his face was set in a small smirk. Elia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and not from anger over the condescension. He then walked up to her, his eyes looking her over, before smiling more deeply, "So I must ask, what is it like to be a walking corpse?"

"Walk-what?" Elia blinked, all the while seeing the man begin to tower over her. He wasn't as tall as the Mountain, but he was taller than Rhaegar had been, and indeed, likely as tall as Ser Hightower or Ser Dayne. He didn't go out of his way to overwhelm Elia with that frame…yet it was obvious from every movement that he towered over her. The thought of this massive man bringing ill harm to her child caused Elia to blink, and do her best to pull Aegon to the side away from him.

"Really now," Onos chided, "Do you think that if I wanted to smash your brat's brains in, I wouldn't already have done so?" Elia felt her teeth grit at the sorcerer, who gave a small chuckle at her, "Oh, that look. The protective instinct of a mother for her offspring," Elia saw the smirk become a sneer, "Just like the apes you are."

"And you consider yourself better?" Elia fired back, "Do you think Valyrian blood makes you superi-"

And then Elia felt her throat constrict. Her words were caught beneath the grip beneath her jaw, and she abandoned them utterly as she tried to gasp for air. She looked down, but the bronze man's hands were still behind his back, yet somehow his gaze was enough to cause her to choke. Finally, just as she began to grow light of head, the grip dispersed, and she was able to hungrily gulp down a few breaths. It was only her determination to protect her sleeping son that kept her from falling down, though she swayed in the air as she began to breathe once more.

"Don't dare compare me to these little worms," Onos said firmly, "I have nothing in common with those little goat farmers or the massive lizards they claim as theirs."

Elia couldn't even nod. Instead, she focused on steadying herself, until finally she was able to control herself once more. The Bronze man raised his right hand in front of his face, and sneered down at it, and his glare seemed to only grow more hateful.

"I don't like this body, you know," he continued, holding his hand out in front of Elia's face, "Was a desperate gamble of last resort. It was a success, but the cost," he let out a low growl, "To be human, an insult to my very nature. Why he even bothered to create a species so rancid as this I shall never know," Onos gripped his hand more tightly together, "And to grant that species so much…"

"What are you?" Elia finally asked, and Onos brought his other hand in front of him, and made an effort to clap his hands together daintily.

"Why Princess," his voice was just as condescending as before, but…there was something there. Slowly the bronze man's right hand reached up to his jaw line and caught his fingers beneath the tip of his chin. His hand stopped…and then lifted his jaw upward.

Or rather the skin where his jaw once was. In its place, was a chin almost dainty in its femininity. Unlike the bronze skin previously, his chin was almost translucent now. As the folds of the bronze skin came over her nose, the beauty of this creature's visage only seemed to overwhelm Elia more. His lips and his nose were like Rhaegar's only more so, with the minor flaws of a living man filed away for marble. Yet as the skin flap passed his eyes, the same stars remained staring at Elia, though there was a strange sadness in those shining orbs.

"I am the morning star, the light beyond light. I was there before your oldest ancestors crawled from the waters and first breathed air," and then the left hand reached up to join the right, grabbing the skin with both hands, and pulling down with great strength.

But instead of covering the light visage once more, a new layer of skin emerged. It was red. Elia had to look away from it before she could gaze anymore on the visage, her heart nearly bursting at the bare sight of the exposed forehead.

"

AND I SHALL BE THERE WHEN THIS WRETCHED ROCK IS NOT BUT BURNT CRUST," the voice was something more terrible than she had ever conceived. For a moment, she continued to look away, only to hear footsteps. She tried to continue to look away, until she felt a strong hand reach out and catch her chin, and turn her head up towards the man's face.

She nearly allowed herself to sigh aloud when she realized that he was back to bronze skin. He had a cruel smirk on his face, and clearly he had enjoyed the last little trick of his. He then let go, and leaned backward.

"That was where I found this body," Onos laughed, wagging his fingers, "I met a fool, at the end of the world," his smirk grew wider, "He was the last thing there, and couldn't find a way for it all to end. I needed a body, and well," he wagged the finger back and forth, almost as if to himself, "I got one," he then pointed at Elia, "But, well using the body of a counter guardian is always tricky. It was just my luck I managed to run into…well, you don't really need to know."

Elia merely gritted her teeth at Onos, at this Morning Star, as he walked away. He then stopped, and turned on his heel back to her.

"You know," he said aloud, "I could get you out of here," he offered a hand out, "A deal for your life and the life of your child," he stopped, and raised his other hand to an ear, "After all, I am hearing a commotion outside. I would not be surprised if trouble was on its way."

Elia didn't need to stop to guess who he was referring to. She had probably spent far too much time here, with this creature. She gave him one last look, and then spat out towards him, missing him by a few inches, and causing him to shake his head.

"Oh dear," he said, "You humans can't ever understand the plans of your betters," he looked up, and gave Elia the same look she had given to her daughter when she had torn apart one of Aegon's favorite toys, "It's very naughty of you."

And then he turned, and began to walk down the corridor. Elia took in a breath as he turned down one of the hallways connecting to this corridor, and then let it out as he disappeared. SHe then looked back down to Aegon, as he pushed into her side with his free hand. She looked down, and saw that her son had finally woken up. She stared into his brown eyes, and then steeled herself. She then turned, and rushed back up the stairwell.

"Mata!"

Elia's sister's voice came through the door, stress almost disappearing. The sound of a piece of wood being scraped against the floor came from the other side, and soon Elia found herself inside the playroom. She looked to her right, and saw that one of the chests that held Rhaenys toys had just been placed along the door. A second later, the door was shut, and Mata did her best to move the chest back into place.

"Thank the gods you're here," Mata sighed, grabbing up Elia in a hug. Then Elia found another hug along her leg, and looked down to see Rhaenys holding her there, "I was worried someone had gotten you. I heard you shouting downstairs."

"You hea-" Elia then remembered her conversation with the sorcerer, and cursed, "Do not mind that, we must get out of here now," she pointed at the set of shelves and the small passageway along the wall. Mata nodded, and was quickly against the wooden furniture. Elia took the time to sit Aegon down on the chest, and then rushed to assist her sister. It took only a moment for the wooden thing to be moved, and for the small tunnel to emerge once more.

"So we just need to get down to that little stone dock," Mata said quickly, wiping some sweat from her brow, "And then board the boat, and the Spider will take us…where?"

"I don't know," Elia bit the side of her mouth, looking down the passageway, "At this point, I have no clue, other than it will be away from this wretched city," she looked back, and picked up Aegon, "Quickly, we must hurry," Mata nodded, and grabbed Rhaenys by her small little hand.

And then they were in the passageway. In these dark hideaways, Elia allowed herself to relax. Swiftly they inched their ways across the thing crawlspace, making sure to avoid any bumps along the way. As they did so, they began to descend downward.

All the while, they could hear things. From outside, the screams and cries of the sack were pounding into their heads. Elia could imagine the horrors that Tywin Lannister was committing to the smallfolk, and could only shake her head. Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done for them now. She could only focus on saving her family while she could. She continued to press forward, and before long they were a full story down.

"Oi, ain here Ser Gregor."

Elia stopped, and so did Mata. Mata's hand went down, and slammed into Rhaenys's mouth, keeping her from screaming. They stayed absolutely still for the next few seconds, as Elia tried to imagine where they were in her mind's map of the Red Keep.

'My room,' Elia shivered to herself, 'They already made it to my room,' She pressed her ear to the wall, and listened carefully, and heard rummaging through the room. Wood slamming into stone, glass breaking, just a complete ruckus. Part of her winced at her many things they were likely being broken or stolen, but shook her head, 'Those are just things,' she stared down at her boy and girl, 'Not my real treasures.'

"I can see that," Elia's heart nearly stopped. The voice was deep, but clear. The image of the giant who'd been such a scene at the tourneys walking around the room. She could hear each step, and imagine him surveying the destruction of her room, "Our men are stationed at the exits of the keep, correct?"

"Aye ser," came another voice.

"Well then," Gregor Clegane continued, "We should just go about our business. Lord Tywin asked for the way to be cleared for our new king, and with all the passages out being watched, this is only a minor delay."

'No way out,' Elia couldn't help but smirk, 'You great blundering oaf, shows what you know. By the time you figure out I'm gone, I'll have slipped by you. Then that bald lion you call a master won't have anything clear at all, will he?'

"So where next then?"

"The girl had a room upstairs for play," the Mountain said, "One of the scullery maids we caught told us that much before I dealt with her," Elia winced at the thought of what the Mountain would do to one of her girls, "We check there. Even if they aren't there," Elia then realized to her horror something just behind her, "Then we can likely find where they went next."

As a great cry went out from the other side, Elia pushed forward, and then forced Aegon directly into Mata's free arm. When Mata looked back in shock at her, Elia stared directly into her little sister's eyes.

"We didn't cover the secret passageway," she whispered, and then turned, "If they find that, they could still catch us. Go. I'll cover it up."

"Eli-"

"Go."

And with that, Elia tore back up the passageway. Luckily, it was faster to go straight along the passageway than to go up the hidden passageway than to take the many stairs. And, as Elia could imagine, the Mountain had seemed confident enough to not rush, so she should be able to make it there and get the wooden furniture back to cover the passage.

After several minutes of dipping and dodging her way back up the hidden corridor, she saw the light to the playroom, and smirked. She didn't hear anything from the other side, and smiled as she got to the hole she'd just climbed through. Now, she just had to…wait, the cover only was on the other side. She couldn't move the furniture from this side.

"Of all the stupid things," Elia tried to reach around to make a grab that would allow her to drag it over the entrance, but the angle was wrong, and she just wasn't strong enough to pull it like this. For a moment, she considered just going back. So the whole was open. They hadn't arrived yet, and it wasn't lik-

SLAM

Elia's eyes were drawn to the door to the room. The trunk that had been sitting there moved slightly, but the door was still shut. She felt her heart fall, and realized that only a few more hits would probably be enough for them to get into the room. And if they got in, they'd find the corridor, and even if she had just gone with Mata and her children, they'd probably have been caught before they could have gotten out far enough to see to get away from them.

'What am I going to do?' She asked herself, looking around the room. She was desperate for a way to somehow stop this, to end the madness that her life had become.

SLAM

But nothing was coming. If she broke and ran now, they'd catch her, and likely her children too. She wasn't going to be able to pull the cover over from inside the corridor, it just wasn't possible.

So there was only one option moving forward really.

Elia jumped out, and then used her shoulder to help lift the small toy shelves. Using all her strength, she pushed it over, and set the chest over the entrance. She stared at it for a moment, before grabbing every toy she could, and tossed it onto the shelves.

SLAM

Every second she had was used to toss the toys to make the shelves look like they'd never moved. Finally, after a minute, there were full, and look like the child had just put the toys away themself, rather messily. Elia just stood back, and looked at her work. The thought of the covering being so convincing was…soothing. So soothing, that she was able to slowly lean down into one of the chairs in the middle of the room, and finally rest for the first time since she'd first left her own rooms.

'I'm going to die,' she thought, as the shouts of the Westermen carried through the door, the wood of the door itself buckling with each strike, 'aren't I?'

CRASH

The door was flung to pieces, and the chest was sent tumbling away from the entrance. A great massive form slowly lowered himself beneath the frame of the door. His face was uncovered, with a thick, brown beard covering his jaw. He eyes were hard, as they looked down upon her, and Elia could feel as though she was being judged. He looked around the rest of the room, and then at Elia once more, all the while more men flowed in behind him, surrounding her.

"Princess Elia," he said firmly, "Tis a pleasure to be meeting you."

"And likewise you," Elia said, staring him directly in his eye, "Ser Clegane."

"Quiet yo-grk," one of the men spoke up, but the Mountain slapped the man's throat with the back of his hand, and suddenly the man's hands came up, grabbing at his throat as he desperately tried to take in a breath of air. For the next moment, Elia just stared at the man choking on his closing windpipe, before falling to the ground. None of the men around them made a move to help the man, who was just allowed to suffocate from the strike of the mighty heir of Clegane.

"As I was saying," the Mountain's voice continued, formally as anyone who could do what he'd just done could manage, "Tis a pleasure to meet you princess," he almost bowed, and Elia had the desire to run as fast as she could, though she knew there was no exit she could take without ruining everything, "Always an honor to meet one of royal blood."

"I thank you for the compliment Ser Clegane," she said. Her eyes finally came up to meet Gregor, and she felt her heart nearly burst. His eyes…they were hungry. Hungry for death. Hungry for sex. Hungry for her. She grit her teeth, and continued, "I must ask, what is it you wish of me Ser Clegane?" she took in a deep breath, already knowing the answer, "As it cannot be by chance that you have climbed all the way up this place, to meet me in my daughter's playroom."

"Quite right Princess," Clegane moved forward, and every step he took sounded like the collision of a stone in a construction project. As he finally got up in front of her, he placed his massive armored hand on hers, and then asked, "I must ask where are your children?"

"Which chil-CheyIIAAah!"

She stared down at her hand, as Gregor's fingers had reached out, gripped her left index finger, and twisted it until it broke upward in a spiral. Her whole body shook at the sight of it, and she took in a deep breath for a moment, trying to regain her composure. Finally, once she had regained her breath, she looked back up to Gregor, who seemed almost disappointed.

"Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon," Gregor said matter of factly, "I know they are your only children, with such a weak body, they were the only ones you could muster," the rest of the men around her snickered at that.

Elia felt rage mix with shame. Everything had gone so wrong. She had been tasked by politics to marry a fool and a dreamer. That dreamer had wanted three children, and when she couldn't provide it, she couldn't say no to him. That had lead to the taking of Lyanna Stark, and to the war. And the war had killed her husband, and let these trolls and ogres into her room. And these ogres and trolls would not stop until her children were dead, all for the crime of who their father was.

She was a silk handkerchief in the wind. Nothing but a dainty, pretty thing, pulled around by the winds of fate.

"They're on Dragonsto-AH!"

"Princess," the Mountain's sigh was like a bellowing bull, though Elia could barely care as her ruined middle finger was bent in direct perpendicular to the rest of her hand, "We know they are here. Both were seen with you at least this morning when you broke your fast."

'How did they,' Elia thought, before the image of an old man with a chain beneath his beard waltzing through the great hall entered her mind, 'Pycelle.'

The Grand Maester had always been fond of Tywin Lannister. More than likely he had informed Tywin about her children. The old man was the sort who likely saw what the Mountain was ordered to do as an unfortunate but necessary evil for the stability of the kingdom, something he'd learned in his admiration for the Lord of Casterly Rock.

'Damn him,' she felt tears well up as the Mountain placed his hand over her ring finger, 'Damn them all.'

"You know I can kill these men?"

Elia's eyes widened at the familiar voice.

She stared upward, and saw that Gregor was still staring at her from his height, but he wasn't moving. Indeed, it was as though everything had stopped. She tried to pull her hand free from the monster's grip, only to realize she could not move as well. She could only sit there, staring at the mirror on the wall opposite her.

And in that mirror was Onos Maghagon. He was lazily resting his right elbow on the shoulder of one of the Mountain's men. Now that Elia could compare from the reflection, she realized that really this man was only half a head shorter than the Mountain, something his brief appearances before had only hinted at. Still the sorcerer just stood there, looking at his finger nails as he let loose a yawn.

"These fools are mostly just pigs really," Onos continued, standing up straight, and then seeming to stretch himself, "Dumb animals with a mere base form of cunning," Onos began to walk in the mirror, and then place his hand on the Mountain's face. Elia felt her eyes widen in shock, and she turned to look at the Mountain standing right in front of her, only to see that Onos wasn't there. She looked back, and saw that the sorcerer was only in the reflection itself, so even as he seemed to tickle Gegor Clegane's jaw, he wasn't actually touching him, "It would only be too easy to slaughter them."

"Then why don't you?" she asked.

"Well, one doesn't do a job if one doesn't get a payment," the magician's smirk was so rancid it made her nose curl, "Now, I suppose it shouldn't be too much to ask for a mere trifle," he then smiled, "Just pledge your loyalty to me. Bend the knee, and declare me as your master."

"Bend the knee?"

"Of course," Onos laughed, "Oh, I think I might have some use for you. And I'm certain my partner might be up to it," Elia hadn't met the partner, but she wasn't able to ask further, "So, you agree to pledge yourself to me, and then serve me," he then reached out his left hand, and a black blade appeared in it, right beneath the Mountain's chin,"And I'll kill these pigs."

"Just…bend the knee to you?" she thought about it, looking over at him.

"Oh come now," Onos laughed, "You've bent your knee before, to that little worm on his throne of blades."

Elia had bent the knee to Aerys. When she had first arrived. It had been among the many rituals she had undertaken to become Rhaegar's wife, and looking back, it was one she truly wish she had rejected. That king…how could anyone have pledged themselves to a monster like him. She'd heard the rumors of his madness, and yet she'd pledged herself, and been witness to countless atrocities at his hands.

"Now it shan't be much," Onos reached his free hand out, right in front of Elia's reflection, to allow her meet his hand with the one that the Mountain was not in the process of breaking every bone in, "Just shake my hand, and we can begin to work together."

Elia stared at the hand hanging out in front of her. She looked up into the mirror, and met Onos's star covered eyes with her own. She could feel the power radiating from him, as if the body he was in was only barely constraining what was actually there. And all that power…was right there…if she would just shake his hand. If she would just bring her hand up, and meet the reflection of his hand in the mirror.

PWWWBBT

"Fuck that," she said, as she watched the wad she had just spat out. In the real world it had hurled out and landed on Gregor Clegane's surcoat, but in the reflection, it had actually landed directly on Onos's nose. The shock was clear on the sorcerer's face, as was the slowly growing rage on his features, "You think I don't know what it's like to pledge myself to a monster," white hair and purple eyes came to mind. Not just Aerys, but Rhaegar too, "I've done it before."

Onos reached up the hand he had been about to shake hers with and wiped the spit from his face, and Elia couldn't help but smile at the wrinkles that were cutting into his bronze skin.

"And what did it get me," Elia said, "The title of Princess. Cuckolded by a mad husband. Locked away as a prisoner by my mad goodfather. Left to be killed by the lords of these lands, all so obsessed with their game of thrones. No, I've learned what bending my knee means," she gritted her teeth, and gave Onos her biggest possible smile, "I am a Martell, and Nymeria had the right of it."

"I will not bend."

Onos slowly faded into the background, the sword disappearing from his hand.

"So be it."

The pain exploded again. She barely contained her shriek, as Gregor looked down at her spit on his surcoat. He then took her ring finger, and broke all the way along the back of her hand.

"YEAGHGHHGH!"

"Twas rude princess," he said aloud, as his hand moved over to her smallest left finger, "Such actions are beneath one of your station," he then looked her in the eye with rage barely held back, "Only whore are knows to throw spit at me like that."

The cackles of the men around her only confirmed the threat. They were looking at her, and many of them looked hungry in the ways only men of horrible palettes and non-existant honor would a woman. They were planning to use her as they saw fit, even if they were able to find the children.

'The Children,' Elia thought, though she stopped herself from looking at the shelves where the passageway was hidden, 'Mata should have them to the boat soon. And she knows what to do. She can save my children, as long as I hold them here just a bit longer.'

"I would think that even whores would know to not touch your rotten body."

Elia blinked at the words that came from her mouth. The laughing stopped, and Elia could see a sudden fear come over the men. The men closest to Gregor Clegane stepped away from him, their eyes focused on him. Elia then saw several veins begin to rise up across the giant's forehead. He then used his hand to grab the next last finger on her left, and and twist-

"YEEAAAIIIGHGHGHGHGHH!"

The finger directly off her hand. Gregor then lifted the finger in front of her face, and he allowed her to stare at her removed digit for a moment. He then snorted, and tossed the small finger to the ground. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and lowered himself directly into her line of sight.

"Tell me where your children are," he said.

"Fuck you."

Her eyes then exploded. She fell backward, the chair flipping over as this happened. She landed in a heap, and felt her head throb against the cold hard stone of the floor. Her vision was a swirl of color and shapes, and she desperately tried to reestablish her place in the world. She then stopped, as a hand reached down and grabbed up her shoulder, lifting her into the air. Finally, after a moment, her eyes refocused, and she saw Gregor Clegane once more, his right fist back, ready to strike her again. She could already feel one of her eyes beginning to swell shut.

"Tell me where your children are."

"Fu-"

The next strike sent her backward once more. She felt herself collide with one of the men behind her. Her head twirled again, before she was again picked up. Her left eye was almost completely shut now, the swelling rising incredibly quickly from such a strike.

"Tell me-"

"Fuck yo-"

And she was struck again.

"I can keep doing this," Gregor said as he picked her up once more. Elia could feel blood now coming along the side of her face, and couldn't really see out of that eye anymore, "I'll leave your mouth untouched, I need you to tell me where your little spawn are after all."

"Fuck you," Elia spat once again, this time with blood from the contact mixing with the spit, and landing on Gregor's face. Gregor stopped, and Elia looked into his eyes. Suddenly, white hot rage was all that was there, and he reached back while holding her clothes in his hand, and began to pummel her face with his free hand.

The strikes came hard and fast, and with each one, she felt immense pain. It was horrifying really. Elia was feeling her right eye now begin to close, and she knew that soon, she would no longer be able to see. However, with the last second of her sight, she looked back at the mirror, and saw Onos again. He was sneering at her…in much the same way that Gregor was sneering at her. That calmed her somewhat. Afterall, if they both looked at her like that, as a mere tool to be used until discarded, then what good would a deal have been.

She'd already been doomed, and would have only been doubly so if she'd shaken his hand.

'Fuck you Onos,' she then gave one last look to the Mountain, 'Fuck you Clegane,' her mind came to matted silver hair, 'Fuck you Aerys,' then to sad amethyst eyes, 'Fuck you Rhaegar,' then to a man with a bald head and golden beard, 'Fuck you Lannister,' and then there were hundred surrounding her, of so many different appearances. All men, tall and proud looking down at her for her body, for her heart, for her womb.

'Fuck all of you,' she thought to herself, as she watched with her last energy Gregor pull back his fist one last time, 'I am a Martell.'

He cocked the fist fully prepared for the strike.

'I will not bend.'

The arm began to come forward, hurtling towards her head.

"I will not bow.'

The massive set of knuckles was only an inch away from her eye.

'I will not break!'