She remembered this street - the cobblestones, the market stalls, the dirty windows. And she remembered that street, with its houses nestled tightly against each other, rising so tall she feared they might topple down upon her.

Near the waters of Blackwater Bay, the fishers sold their wares as they had done when she had been a child. On the Street of Steel, the sounds of hammers and the heat of the fires still enveloped her as they had done when she had first visited.

Children played in alleys, bakers haggled with their wares, soldiers patrolled the streets, workers constructed new huts, minstrels played their tunes at corners and on balconies.

She had changed so much over these last years, even simply over these last moons, and yet King's Landing had stayed exactly the same.

Elia dragged her through the crowded streets, halting every five steps to gawk at yet another piece of entertainment. She allowed her sister to choose their path, following her with a polite smile and her hands buried in the fabric of her dress.

As they listened to the song of yet another minstrel, Oberyn and Ellaria joined them in the crowd.

"Have you girls seen anything interesting yet?"

The very moment Elia and her had been about to leave the manse, her sister's mother had walked up to them and said she would join them on their visit to the city. Then Oberyn had stepped up to them, interlaced his hand with that of his paramour, and exclaimed he would not let his family explore the dangerous outdoors without his protection.

She had tried to reciprocate his grin, yet had only mustered a weak nod.

Elia rattled off all the places they had already been to, excitedly telling her parents about the hidden alcoves she had already discovered.

"Next we want to head to the Dragonpit, I desperately want to see what remains of it," she said. "And then we need to return to the Street of Steel to purchase a proper dagger, but only after I have picked up some more coins from the manse."

"Is the blade I gifted you for your last name day not to your liking?" Oberyn asked.

"I need something to remember this city by, do I not? And you have multiple daggers as well, why should I not be allowed the same?"

Her father laughed.

"Have you been to the Sept of Baelor yet?" Ellaria asked.

"We have walked past it."

"Perhaps we could visit it together." She then looked at Cerelle as she said, "Or simply us, if you would like to pray in peace."

The gods would strike her down as soon as she set foot in it. Punish her for her crimes, condemn her to eternal suffering, show her what it is that she had unleashed at-

"In the morrow?"

Ellaria smiled. "I'll make sure to wake you."

Her sister mumbled several complaints about how she could be quiet if she wanted to, when the minstrel ahead of them struck up a new song.

A frog had called for a celebration

Of the victory over his people

Little did he know

It would all turn sour

The moment he'd let go of his arrow

Elia's excited chattering barely reached her ears, nor did the cheers and applause of the crowd.

Why had she come here? Why had she- She should have stayed in the manse, locked up and far, far away from anyone she could hurt. And even further from those that could hurt her.

They could not know about Benjiamin, about the tourney, about everything that had happened between them. About how she had almost betrayed everything she stood for, all for a man that had thrown her to the wolves without a moment's hesitation.

You abandoned your people, the minstrel seemed to almost scream at her. Just as you have done with your mother, and Jon, and Robb Stark.

She had not abandoned Robb. No, she had escaped him. In retribution for saving his life, he had tried to take hers, and she had needed to prevent it. He could not possibly hate her for it. He would understand. And if not him, then Arya Stark would. She would reign her brother in, and prevent him from coming after her.

She would be safe. No one would know. None would ever find out about what she had caused, the flow of blood she had been unable to stop, the crimes she-

"Are you alright?"

Oberyn's words ripped her back into the real world.

"Yes," she said quickly. "Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but she quickly stepped away. Away from him, his questions, and the hand he was about to lay on her back.

"I forgot to- I need to do something. Don't wait for me."

And with that she hurried down the street, disappearing into the crowds.

She had been walking aimlessly for quite a while, rounding corners, happening upon abandoned squares, and passing by nobles and soldiers without ever acknowledging either. And just when she considered returning to her family, she stood in a tight alley, in front of the faded drawing of a snake winding around a bowl and the flame erupting from it. The sign of a healer.

The thought had not even crossed her mind, yet being faced with the possibility…

Her back itched, the stitching pulled at her skin, and she knew continuing to wear the dirty bandages would bring her no good. Being able to have her wounds looked at - far away from Oberyn's stares and questions and concerns - seemed like an enticing proposition.

There could have been better, more reputable healers that were not located in an abandoned alley in Flea Bottom, but she was desperate to keep her family from finding out the truth. And so she knocked on the dark, wooden door, and entered.

The singular room was furnished with nothing more than what was directly needed for healing - jars of herbs and pastes, bandages, scissors and knives and needles, and whatever else was hiding in the drawers and cupboards. Even if the surfaces were relatively clean, a strange feeling settled around her heart.

People had died here.

An old woman sat at a table, a book in her hand and a dog between her legs. Its fur was grey and despite the surroundings well-kept, yet he did not seem like he received much to eat.

"Pardon me."

The woman looked up, her dark eyes piercing her. "Yes?"

"I saw the sign outside and thought you might be able to help me with an injury."

She straightened her back. "If you can pay."

Cerelle stepped towards her and laid two silver stags on the table. "Will that suffice?"

The dog lazily trotted towards a corner of the room as she sat down on the chair the woman had just been occupying.

"Then let me see what troubles you."

She took a deep breath, and carefully tugged her shirt upwards and over her head, mindful not to disrupt her veil and to keep the traitorous lion's necklace hidden, and revealed the bindings still wrapped around her upper body.

"Change the bandages," she said softly. "And remove the stitching, if the wound has healed properly already."

The woman must have seen some strange things, because even after cutting through the fabric and revealing what Cerelle assumed to be a most horrifying picture, she said nothing, and only continued her work.

She could have asked Oberyn if he had taken a healer with him. Knowing him, he most likely had done so, not willing to put his life in the hands of strangers. But then he would have found out about what had happened to her, and she would have needed to tell him about the horror she had gone through. And nothing and no one could get her to relive that. Not even through story.

(Her nightmares were enough.)

The stitchings were cut, a cool paste applied to her skin, and new bandages wrapped around her body. Whether that was truly needed she did not know, but supposed the healer knew best.

Cerelle thanked the woman, but she only waved her off. And so she left the house, the alley, and afterwards Flea Bottom itself.

A left, then another, then she walked down one of the large straights leading directly towards the main square, and quicker than she could react, Elia had jumped towards her.

"Finished?"

"Aye. Have you found anything interesting in the meantime?"

Her sister immediately started rattling off place names and shop names she had seen or heard of and now wanted to visit. Cerelle simply let herself be pulled through the streets, glad her previous… outburst had been forgotten.

Oberyn and Ellaria were not with Elia, and her sister quickly explained her parents had already returned to-

Suddenly, a hand closed itself around her wrist.

She immediately tried to rip it away, but the hold of the boney fingers was too strong, too tight, too insistent.

"Follow the Ice Dragon."

The old woman's voice carried to her ears even above the noise of the busy street.

"Follow the Ice Dragon," she repeated. "Save yourself, Andrekros. Follow the Ice Dragon. Please, it is the only-"

She finally wrangled her arm free, and almost stumbled over the cobblestones in her haste to get away.

People stared.

Grabbing Elia's arm, she quickly dragged her away.

"What was that about?" her sister asked.

"I don't know."

Perhaps she did know. Some part of her, at least. Yet facing it - and the horrifying truths it carried - could never happen. She wouldn't allow it.

"Why did she tell you to follow the Ice Dragon?" Elia continued as they walked up the King's Way. "What did she mean by that?"

"Well…" Cerelle considered. Should she truly talk about this? "The Ice Dragon is a constellation of stars, whose glowing blue eye points north. It is used by sailors as guidance on the open sea."

"But why would she want you to go north? She does not even know you."

"I am none wiser than you."

What else could the old woman have meant? Ice dragons did not exist, no matter what mad tales fishermen had been spouting for centuries. The constellation was the only possible explanation.

North.

Never again, she swore herself.

a/n: plz tell me what you think of this story so far! i know it's a bit slow, but i want to take my time with these characters

until next week :3