Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun.
Book 2
Chapter One-Hundred and Forty-Three
The rain was cold and sharp and the grey light of morning made Elia feel like a thousand tiny knives were falling from the sky to pierce her flesh, and yet she endured it as best as she could.
Her Uncle was riding off to their homeland, alongside him was Ser Balon Swann and half a hundred knights that had sworn Elia their service, three hundred men-at-arms and over a hundred squires and pages.
They would become the core of a small army, Rosby and Stokeworth had already sent a few hundred men to the capital each and the other Crownland houses had pledged their support.
Elia wished that she could ask for more, but there were more wars to be fought and if it came to it King's Landing needed to be surrounded by allies and those allies needed to have enough men to come to their aid.
But all the same, to know that her family was under threat and she could not order all the swords of the realm south, to rescue her niece and her niece's children from the siege they were enduring, to not punish those that had harmed her family, it was a hard thing to swallow.
At the very least Lord Fowler had already left the city and was making his way south towards Skyreach, having the Warden of the Prince's Pass as an ally did much to ease her fears as the northern army would have an easy passage into Dorne and a strong foothold. And, if worst came to worse, both Lord Fowler's twins were within the city.
And then Elia's thoughts turned to Ashara.
When Doran had sent word that Ashara's daughter had shown herself at the Water Gardens, Elia did not know how to feel. She had always loved Lauryn, ever since she was born, Elia had been at Starfall when Ashara had gone into her confinement, after the maester had pulled Lauryn into the world Elia had helped to clean her before handing her back over to Ashara.
And after Ashara had held her daughter for over an hour she had given her to Elia while she rested and Elia had never wanted to let Lauryn go, she had to eventually of course but she had been a part of that little girl's life for as much as she could be and had loved her as fiercely as she had loved any of her brother's children.
But for all that love Elia had for her it had not stopped her from playing a part in the murder of her brother, it had not stopped Ashara from brining ruin down on House Martell.
Elia had not forgotten that Ashara had been used by Doran in his plot to make her the Lady of Winterfell, she could not blame her for hating him, Elia had never forgiven Doran for it herself.
But he was still her brother, her big brother and the head of her house. Striking at him was to strike at her, at her entire family. It would not go unanswered, it could not go unanswered.
She would have to die. Ashara. Lauryn. And Ashara's son as well, who Elia had never known but she knew that she would have loved him as much as she loved his mother and sister. They would all have to die, and their heads would need to be spiked on the walls of the Red Keep for all to see. So all could know the fate of traitors.
Elia would weep, if she had any tears left.
She tried to smile for Uncle Lewyn as he knelt before her with Ser Balon but she could not manage it. "I wish you all good fortune good knights, and will pray for both your safeties." Elia gestured and a pair of her serving men came forward with swords in in new leather scabbards. "I have had all the swordsmiths upon the street of steel making swords for you both to wield. I charge you with them, and ask that you use them to free my homeland."
Both knights took their own sword and Elia watched as both of them tested their balance, "It is a fine blade my queen, I thank you for the gift and swear to you that I will not return until these traitors are dead." Ser Balon swore to her and Elia nodded.
The younger knight left her alone with her uncle then and Lewyn stared at her intensely. "What do you want me do with Ashara?"
Elia breathed deep, then spoke. "She is a traitor to Dorne, to the realm. To the Iron Throne. You will bring me her head, if she yields to you then you will carry her back to the Red Keep where she will be held until his grace my husband returns from his wars to deliver onto her the King's justice."
Her uncle was silent for a long moment before he bent his head to her. "Your Grace." And then with a swirl of his white cape he was gone, climbing atop his stallion and riding out of the gates of the Red Keep with the rest of the men.
Elia wanted to weep, but she was the queen and her ladies, her handmaidens, her servants and men-at-arms and sworn knights were watching her. So, she forced the tears down and made her way back inside of Maegor's Holdfast.
The realm might have been falling apart but that did not mean that all of her other duties could be neglected, representatives from the merchants guild came up from the city to speak to her about the disruptions to trade that the war had caused and Elia had to remind them all that their profits had tripled since the days that mad Aerys had been on the throne, and that a small disruption was better than the uncertainty that would come if Ned lost the throne.
That had made them silent, and after a few more polite words they had left Elia in her solar. Next came Ser Gregor Snow, a bastard from White Harbor who had come to swear her his service and Elia accepted his vows and his sword.
Her next visitor came to her after her early supper, a gently spiced soup of autumn squash and carrots with a salad of cabbage and walnuts and a loaf of crusty bread, Nymeria strode into the room with a small pile of papers in her hands.
"Your Grace, I have reports that I thought you might find interesting." A part of Elia wanted to tell her niece that she did not want to hear them, but she was still the Queen and she had been the one to convince Ned to make Nymeria his mistress of whisperers, and Elia had given the younger woman more and more of her own contacts so she could make the web of spies and informers her own.
And so she gestured for Nym to begin.
There was quiet a lot to go through, first of all their were reports that some minor lords in the Riverlands were considering pledging their strength to Tywin Lannister before his armies arrived into their lands.
Elia did not blame them, most of these lords were minor houses that were close to the passage into the westerlands. If Lord Tywin's host invaded then it would be their families that were in the most danger, their keeps and lands that would burn.
But treason was treason and could not be borne and so Elia would need to write letters to these lords, inviting them each to send a child to foster at the Red Keep. And if they refused her...
Then, she would do what she had to do. Elia was the Queen, and she had to defend her own.
The next reports were of a sweeter nature, Oberyn was still alive and was travelling through Dorne to gain the support of those houses that were still loyal to their own and he had Obara and Ser Daemon Sand with him.
So, she still had one brother at least. It did not ease the pain in her heart, but at least she was sparred any further.
Finally, The orphans of the Greenblood had vowed their support to House Martell. The orphans were not rich but they were stronger than most suspected as they had total dominion over the river they named themselves after and such a thing would be useful in the war if Elia was any judge.
She thanked her niece for her reports and dismissed her for the day before Elia rose, it was time for the small council meeting.
While it was true she was only allowed to attend the small council meetings as Ned allowed her too and he was gone, none of the men on the council would go so far as to try and forbid her from attending in his absence.
And while Elia had not quite forgiven Hoster Tully for the insult of trying to hide what had happened in Dorne from her, she also knew it was not the time to pick at that wound as there were enough wars to be fought.
Elia made her pleasantries when she arrived and took her seat, normally she would sew while she listened to the rest of the council discuss the affairs of the realm but today she found that she could not keep her mind on it and so she only listened.
The main topic of conversation was the weather, Autumn was always known for it's storms but these storms seemed to be the worst in living memory. Grand Maester Ryam had checked his records and apparently the last time there had been storms this terrible was in the reign of Aegon the Dragonbane, and the horrible famine that had followed it caused much death.
Right now, the main concern was the sea. Until the weather abated then travel by the sea was too dangerous, and the thing that terrified Elia the most was that Ned might attempt it anyway. Every second he was away was another second the chaos grew worse and their enemies could move against them.
For half a heartbeat Elia had a terrifying thought of a ship being tossed and tumbled across the sea, and Ned and Torrhen and Mors drowning beneath the waves as it came undone beneath the feet.
It was not real, but it did not make the fear any less.
And then there was the news from the North and that fear was more solid, Roose Bolton's bastard had sized Winterfell and was keeping Jon and Minisa captive and the only reason they knew was because Dacey Mormont had escaped from Winterfell and rode down to Moat Calian.
Ravens had been sent to the Dreadfort to have Lord Bolton answer for his bastard's crimes, but so far there had been nothing by way of a response.
The rest of the meeting carried on but in truth Elia only listened with one ear, too caught up in her own thoughts and fears to worry overmuch about the price of spices and silk.
Soon enough the meeting was done and it was time for Elia to have her evening supper with her children, it was one of the few joys she had.
But even then it was tinged with sadness, Torrhen, Mors, Sansa and Brandon were far from her side, Lyarra was still missing and Arya-
No, she could not think of Arya lest she start to weep and never stop.
She needed a bath and a change of clothes, and so Elia returned to her chambers and called for one.
She didn't look up when the voice called through the door with claims of having her bathwater, nor did she think twice about giving the voice permission to enter. Elia had never done it but she was certain that carrying the heavy iron kettle it was brought in to keep it warm was hard work and she didn't want to keep the poor girl waiting any longer than she needed to.
It was only when the door was opened and closed that Elia realised that she did not know the voice, she knew the voices of all her maids who attended her. The maids who attended her when she bathed were a pair of older common Dornish women called Agnes and Nettie who loved to share the gossip of the castle with her, Agnes was always gentle as she cleaned her with a rag and Nettie was the one who tended to her hair.
That voice did not belong to either of them.
Elia turned and saw a young woman standing there, she had brown hair and brown eyes and she was pretty in a plain sort of way. She was not old but she could not be that much younger than Elia herself and she was dressed in a servant's garb.
And she held a knife.
"Where are Agnes and Nettie?" Elia asked, trying to keep her voice calm as she stared at the knife in the other woman's hands.
"Agnes's hip was troubling her and so Nettie offered to bring the kettle up alone, Nettie is dead." The woman spoke plainly. "I will pray for forgiveness for that, but it needed to be done."
"Who are you?" Elia asked. "How did you get in here?"
"My name does not matter, I have several." The woman stepped closer to Elia. "As for how I got in, well, all those brave men leaving for war. It was easy to slip in." The woman took another step and raised the blade. "This was not meant for you, it was meant for the red witch and perhaps for the abomination that she had made of your son. But they are beyond my reach."
"But you are not," she smile then, sadly. "I bear you no ill will your Grace, it is known you still worship the Seven but you are wed to a northern heretic and you have done little and less to stop the usurpation of our faith."
"Alas, you serve us better dead." Elia opened her mouth to cry out. "I would not bother your Grace, all the chaos it seems your knights are so busy trying to figure who should guard you and your children that they have forgotten to do it."
Elia swallowed and met the other woman's eyes. "You will die for this."
The other woman hummed and stepped forward, and then the door opened again.
"Mother, I need to-" It was Meria, who blinked at the sight before her before she lunged for the stranger, one of her own knives in her hand. Elia was too terrified to move, unsure of what to do.
It did not look like a fight to the death, it looked like grabbing and pawing at one another and it was only when two cries of pain went up that Elia knew.
The stranger stumbled forward, Meria's knife lodged into her throat before she collapsed forward on to her face. Elia walked forward to where her daughter was on the ground, the stranger's blade lodged into her heart.
Elia knelt next to her and pulled Meria into her arms, looking down at her face as she had done a thousand times when she was a babe.
"I was brave Mama, I was-" And then she was gone, and Elia screamed.
She was still screaming when Ser Mandon and Ser Waymar burst in.
End of Chapter One-Hundred and Forty-Three