A WINTER ROSE ⊳ g. of thrones [1]

CHAPTER NINE | The Knight

THE NIGHT FOLLOWING the tourney saw a petrified Ellena Stark staring out onto King's Landing from the North Tower overlooking the Godswood. The Godswood of King's Landing blanked in comparison to that of Winterfell's. Back home where the red leaves of the weirwood tree were illuminated in the night, the bark so white the moon hid her face once she shone upon it.

Here in King's Landing it was hot, far too hot for the raven haired northern girl whom longed for home and life before the appointment of her lord father as Hand of the King.

The trees stared back blankly at her, no faces, no life, only death, barely even a beautiful shade of lively green.

Ellena was humiliated. She still bore the crown of winter roses upon her head, unable to remove that which had been laid upon her. How dare that Lannister lion bestow this, this gift upon her. She was a wolf; she should have bared her teeth at such an action. But she froze, her father, her sisters, Cersei, all of the lords and ladies watching. And that damned Jaime Lannister, he just smirked all the while, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Robert Baratheon was enraged, drunkly throwing his goblet at Ser Jaime, and even went to go take his "Lady Lyanna" away from the "Dragon Bastard", mistaking both Ellena and Jaime each for someone from another time. Another life. Another king.

Her father had pulled Ser Jaime from the grasp of King Robert, and escorted him back to the Red Keep, though Jaime stalked off not much in need of the Hand's help.

And Cersei Lannister. How quiet she had been. As graceful as the queen she was with more than half the fury behind her mask. Now she had been the one to take Ellena from the middle of it, a tight grip kept on the girl's arm all the way up to her chambers in the Red Keep.

Her grace had quietly helped the girl into her chambers, before pouring them both goblets of wine. "My brother has never taken such interests in young girls like you before." Such steel she held in her words, straight and sharp to its very point. "His actions will either please or displease our father, maybe both.. You could be the key to taking Jaime from his position in the King's Guard and placing him in his... rightful seat as Lord of Casterly Rock."

Dark hair fell silently over her eyes as Cersei spoke, and she whisper her finger around the edge of the goblet before her. "Jaime—"

The queen snapped, grabbing the girl's chin roughly, forcing her to look in her eyes. "You will address my brother as 'Ser' or 'Ser Jaime Lannister' or any of his other titles. Do not use his name so formally like a common whore."

And in that moment something struck inside the girl, a crackling storm beginning to brew. But calmly, she replied, "Your grace, if I may, he has explicitly told me to call him simply Jaime, and I take others words very carefully. Ask him yourself if it pleases you, lest you still would view me as a common whore."

"You would do well not to displease me, little Lyanna. Are you sure you're ready to take up her mantle, her fate? I can quite readily ensure it for you." She whispered the last words as a man came in.

"Your grace." He bowed and the queen stroked her cheek softly, before turning away to charm the knight. "See to it that our lady Ellena is kept in her quarters safely. She's had a very long day and she'll need her rest." Cersei smiled sweetly back at the girl, but the smile only sickened the girl further. "Sweet dreams, little rose."

And as the door shut, Ellena fled to the balcony outside her window, and a shaky breath escaped her lips as her hands ground against the railing. She could barely breathe; Jaime was right, the Starks should have never left Winterfell, she should be at home with Robb, and mother and Bran... not here, wasting away, waiting to be led to the slaughter.

The pale night sky so full of stars seemed to watch her, like gods watching her from above, mocking her in their beauty. They twinkled and shone bright as the heavens, but looked wrathful and cold, full of vengeance, holding no mercy. She did not hear the door scraping against the floor as it opened, but rather, dreamed of wearing the stars like a shield.

"My lady?"

She turned to greet the voice of a young gentleman, and was greeted by the guard who had been assigned to her door.

He looked like Robb. That struck her more than anything and threatened to tear a sob from her lips. But the more she studied him the  more differences she saw between the knight and her brother.

He was skinny; Robb was not. His hair was long; Robb's was not. His eyes were brown; Robb's were not.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," he began to say, taking a small step forward, calculating whether or not the girl was stable or not. The way she was just staring at him, mouth slightly parted... "I only meant to check on your well being."

Ellena straightened out the length of her skirt, tugging on it a bit in a fidgety way. A habit her mother had tried desperately to break her of, but that was just her. Never still and always late.

"Oh," she coughed. "Thank you... Ser?"

"Doran Rivers, m'lady."

Rivers... So he was—

"A bastard, but I rather pride myself on my combat skills."

She laughed at his cocky nature, a soft smile falling on his soft eyes and for a moment she was happy. "Well, if you're brave enough to fight a girl, I'd rather enjoy sparing with you."

He lifted his brow and accepted the challenge, before bowing and kissing her hand. "Good evening m'lady... Should you need anything.. Know you'll always have friends in the Riverlands, and one right outside your door."

His words puzzled her more than anything, but he quickly left in a clank of armor and sword.

The Riverlands? Was it possibly a play on his bastard name, or did it mean something else? Perhaps, a cry of alliance from her mothers family, House Tully. She did not know, but the words of Jaime Lannister rang through her mind....

Don't lose.