Chapter 5 – In which I became a princess

For a brief moment or two, I mistook the tents before me for those at Harrenhal. The same vibrant colours, the same flying flags… yet at the tourney, it had been but a pageantry, a friendly game of showing off prowess and wealth. This sea of tents before the walls of my ancestral home was real. It was war.

"You should not be here. Stannis will be upset when he finds you," Renly's voice entered my thoughts as he climbed the battlements. His was tall for his age, and already beginning to show the handsome beauty he would later be fabled for. And unlike me, he was tall enough to overlook the battlements with ease, while I, not even five years of age, could barely manage to pull myself up and catch a glimpse.

"He'd also be furious to find you here, so why aren't you worried?"

Renly puffed up his cheeks, as he always did when I outwitted him, although it rarely worked so quickly. He crossed his arms before his chest and used his chin to point towards the besieging enemy.

"Are you counting them? I have tried, several times actually, but there are just too many. Stannis is sure we can sit the matter out, but there are so many of them…"

"Stannis is right," I sat matter-of-factly. "The fat flower things he can starve us out of here, but we're stormlords, Renly. We cannot be scared into submission."

He sniffed at me. "You sound so odd when you speak like that."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, like Maester Cressen. But I suppose Stannis likes these fancy words in you."

I straightened my shoulders, trying not to appear so little next to my brother.

"Stannis likes nothing more than to spite Lord Tyrell right now. And believe me, we will," I promised, sensing that his teasing was just a way to hide the fearful little boy. Even though he was, technically, my elder brother, he was but a boy and I had once been a woman grown. I didn't feel like lashing out on him too much. "We are well provisioned, and with the smuggled goods now arriving on a regular basis, we can sit here for many more moons before the fat flower realizes he's not starving us at all. Plenty of time for Robbie to win the war."

Renly nodded absent-mindedly, his gaze drifting over the myriad of war tents.

"Do you think he will?"

"Do what? Win the war?"

He nodded again, this time more seriously.

"I know that he will. You have no reason to be afraid."

"Did you have one of these dreams again? Is that it, huh?"

"You shouldn't be mad about it, Renly. My dreams warned us of the Tyrell approach. Without them, we'd be down to eating cats by now."

He was silent for a long time, and for once I wished I could read other people's minds. Then, finally, he moved, kicking a little pebble over the wooden planks of the battlements.

"I know. Stannis keeps telling me, and I know damn well how good your dreams were for us. But… but why…" He stopped, and turned away from me. Then he murmured. "Why does everything always have to be about you?"

Before I could react, he pulled himself back together and all but jumped down the stairs. As it turned out, this saved him from our brother's ire, for only a few moments later, one of our guards happened upon me on the battlements and promptly delivered me to Stannis, despite my protest. I didn't feel like being carried around at all.

But there I was, put in a chair in Stannis's command room like a petulant little child. To him, I probably was.

"On the battlements?" He said nothing more, didn't even look at me, but his tone was hurtful. He seemed disappointed.

"I only wanted to see for myself," I tried to explain.

Stannis crossed his arms behind his back and turned towards me. "There is nothing for you to see, only the promise of death. A little girl should not have to see such."

"I have seen worse," my lips betrayed my thoughts against my better wisdom.

"In your dreams, mayhaps. But this is real. Estelle, this is war. People will die. Robert might die. I swore to soul of the mother that bore us that I would keep you safe, you and Renly. Do not make it hard for me."

The sorrow in his voice as he spoke of mother hit me hard. I jumped off the chair and ran towards him.

"But I'm not trying to make it hard, Stannie! I want to help you. Am I not helpful? When I told you about the siege…"

He put his arms around me gently. "Yes, you were helpful, Estelle. But I would rather you had never dreamt of this. A girl your age shouldn't have to endure it."

"And Robbie shouldn't be out fighting. The mad king should have never burned the old wolf. Prince Rhaegar should have never taken Robbie's love. But it all happened. The world isn't perfect."

"No, it truly isn't," Stannis now agreed and sought my gaze. "You must promise me never to go up the battlements again, Estelle. This world is dark and dangerous, as you say, and it would be much darker without you in it. Just one stray arrow..."

"I promise," I interrupted him. "I promise never to do it again if you promise to tell me any news from Robbie, or from King's Landing."

He raised an eyebrow. "Estelle…"

"I'd find out anyway, either from you or my dreams. I would… I would rather hear the news from you, be they good or bad."

He sighed, then he nodded and patted my head. "Come with me," he ordered and returned to the table on which dozens of parchments were piling up. "The raven arrived yesterday. Show me how much you have learned, young lady. Maester Cressen tells me you excel with letters."

Eagerly I climbed the chair again and took the paper he offered me. Not only did I yearn to prove that I was nowhere near as incapable as any five-year-old girl should be, I needed to read this. Stannis couldn't understand, but any piece of information could be crucial for my plans. I unrolled the paper and quickly skimmed the few hastily-written lines. Then, breathlessly, I put it down.

"Robert's won."

Stannis nodded.

"But he is hurt."

"Gravely hurt," my brother agreed. "The maesters know not whether he can survive. And even with the Silver Prince dead, the war is far from over. Do you see now why I couldn't tell you? Estelle, you are too young to bear such news. Do not think I mean to harm you, sister."

The paper slipped from my hands. The battle of the Trident. Robert's wounds, Ned Stark marching towards the capital… the time had come. My heart pounding like a drum, I locked eyes with Stannis and stood upright in the chair.

"No, you don't. But I had to read this. One day, you will understand, but from this day hence, you will never keep such vital information from me again," I told him sharply, not caring at all that I had stopped sounding like a five-year-old. "These are matters of life and death, brother. There is no such thing as too young for this. We must act on it, we must be strong. You are a Baratheon, a true stag, but so am I. You cannot shield me. Mine is the fury."

He looked… puzzled, to say the least. It was a bold move, I admit, but it felt absolutely right. Stannis was a man of principle and great reason, so I hoped he would understand. Yet, he surprised me there and then, and it would remain one of the very few instances of him ever surprising me. He approached me, still fixing his gaze on me, and then he grabbed me by the hips as only Robert would. Robert was the hugging brother, but never Stannis. Yet, he held me there.

"Ours is the fury," he insisted gravely, before picking me up and putting me back on the floor. "Now go and play."

It was clear that he would not say more, and I expected nothing more of him. With a child-like smile, I giggled at him and did as he asked of me.

Later that day, I began telling everyone who would listen that I had the strangest dreams of birds and spiders and lions. Harmless children's blabber, most of our servants thought.

Except for the one who approached me the day after, a kitchen boy I had barely ever noticed before. Curiously, and rather sweetly, he tried to ask me about my dreams. I invited him to play with me, and once we were alone, he thought to push his luck further. Rather than play that game, however, I pulled him close (a boy twice my age!) and whispered into his ear.

"You will repeat every word I tell you to the spider, every single word of it. And if you do, I'll see to it that you are well rewarded. Whatever he's offering you, I'll give you just as much. But if you forget so much as one word, if you misplace any syllable… people will die," I explained in a voice far too grave for a girl my age. "Beginning with you. Do you understand?"

Still in the clutches of a little girl, despite probably strong enough to wrestle me down if he dared, he gulped and nodded.

"Good. Tell him wolves will pluck the flowers to unleash a storm. Tell him lions encircle a prey that once considered them friends. And tell him he must not, under any circumstances, act on any of that, for it is the will of fate. There is only thing he can, and must, do. Only one."

I waited a heartbeat. The boy gasped.

"One one, m'lady," he repeated breathlessly.

I smiled at his submission, and at the thought of what I was going to do. I didn't feel sorry for threatening the little bird, nor for anything that was about to happen. It was necessary, and it felt good. The only thing I regretted was not being a grown woman yet. Then, full well knowing what I had caused so far and what was still to come, I fed him the information that Varys needed to alter fate in my sense.

When he left, all I could do was hope that I had not put my trust in the wrong man.

Two weeks later, we received news of the sack of King's Landing. The mad king was dead, slain by his own kingsguard. The Targaryen bloodline was all but eradicated, for Rhaegar's little children had been butchered in their rooms, and even their Dornish mother was dead. All that remained now was Dowager Queen Rhaella, her little son Viserys and the babe in her womb. Or so people thought.

There were only few people in the world who knew better. There was one who would soon know, and just another few weeks after the raven had arrived, I watched from the battlements as he rode towards Storm's End. King's Landing had fallen, the Targaryens had lost, and the Baratheon-Stark-Tully army came riding to our aid, led by my brother's closest friend and ally. The Tyrells surrendered without even so much as a fight. There wasn't much love lost between Ned Stark and my other brother, yet still they embraced like old friends after Stark had come riding through our gates, waggons of food in his tow.

"You are most welcome at Storm's End, Lord Stark," Stannis said sombrely. "Any news of my brother?"

Stark's face distorted. "Aye, but none that I would tell you here."

"Come with me, then, so we may speak in private." Stannis shot me a glance, but left me there standing like the foolish little child I was.

That night, I snuck out of my room when my nurse had fallen asleep, and made my way to the guest chamber they had lodged Stark in. Bold move again, I know, but surely I had not been born a Baratheon for no reason.

He noticed me as soon as I tried to squeeze through the door. For a moment, his hand wandered to the dagger, but when Lord Stark realized who I was, his features relaxed.

"Lady Estelle, you should not be here at this time of the night. It is not proper."

"No, it isn't," I agreed, closing the door behind me. For a brief moment, I was amused by the fact that the scene could have been mistaken for a romantic tryst, had I been older or had he been… well, less Stark. "But neither are many other things happening at the moment. What King Aerys did to your family wasn't proper. What the old lion did to the royal family wasn't proper. What Robert said to you after they placed the bodies before him wasn't proper."

If Stark was surprised by my words, he didn't betray it.

"You should go to bed, my Lady."

"I will not sleep before I have said what needs to be said, and I'll put it plainly so as not to steal your time. What Robert said about the Targaryen children was wrong. I know you are angry at him, but you need not be angry at the rest of us. Not all Baratheons think like him."

A smile crept into the corner of his mouth. "I am not mad at you."

"And you shouldn't be. People make mistakes. Robert did, Rhaegar did, and even your sister did."

His gaze darkened again. "I really think it is time for you to go to bed…"

"You'll find her in Dorne," I stopped his attempt at pacifying me abruptly. "In the Tower of Joy, guarded by some of the Kingsguard. Do you know why that is?"

There was no answer.

"Well, if you don't you'll soon find out. But you must believe me that the Kingsguard are not your enemy unless you make them. Speak first, and draw swords only if you must. And when you speak… do not judge anyone too harshly. People make mistakes."

"I do not understand."

"No, but you will. Dragon dreams, Robbie calls them. Greensight, you Northerners say. The name matters not, a truth is still a truth. What happened to your father, your brother, your sister… it was all fate. You cannot alter the past, but you can change the future. Be wise, Lord Stark. Spare life instead of taking it."

His eyes seemed confused, but there was really nothing more I could say without risking to spoil it all. So instead of messing things up so much that I altered fate beyond the point of my knowledge, I bid him goodnight and hoped. I wasn't almighty, after all. All I could do was put my knowledge into the right people's hands, at the right times, and hope they would see reason.

Fortunately, and somewhat surprisingly, Stark saw reason. A month later he returned on his way back to King's Landing, a very stern look on his face. He didn't speak much to anyone, least of all Stannis. We didn't get much from him or his fellows about what transpired at the Tower of Joy – only that his sister was dead and so was the Kingsguard that had kept her imprisoned. That and the fact that Stark brought an infant with him that was rumoured to be his bastard.

He came to me as I had come to him, in the middle of the night with no announcement. It wasn't proper. But it was right.

"You knew."

There was nothing else he said, and for a moment I waited for him to add questions, yet there came none. Then, I sighed and sat up in my bed.

"I knew."

"How much?"

"About Rhaegar and Lyanna? A few things. About Jon?" Stark flinched at my words. "Everything."

"Who did you tell?"

"No one."

Stark raised an eyebrow. "Not even your brothers?"

"Especially not them. You know what Robert would do if he knew. You could not allow that to happen. And you promised your sister…"

"But you didn't," he insisted mistrustfully.

"No." I nodded. "But it was the will of the gods, be they old or new. It was fate. I knew it, but I dared not have altered it."

He fell silent for a minute or two, and I began to fear he would jump at me, or jump out of the room. But then, something painful emerged from underneath his Northern ice. It was but one word.

"Why?"

"Because it needed to happen. Because Jon needed to be born, and be born like this, from tears and blood. All of this is greater, greater than any would imagine, or even believe. I never told anyone, nor will I ever."

"But you're telling me."

"As much as you need to know, because you do need to know. Jon is important, more than you would understand now. But there'll come a day when all our lives will depend on him. Which is why I had to let it happen. Which is why you must besmirch your honour in order to protect him and continue this charade. Pass him off as yours, raise him to be a Stark, a Northerner of high moral virtues. He'll need them when the day comes."

He studied my face, but apparently didn't find what he was looking for.

"Robert…"

"Will never know. I promise. Only you and I, and your lady wife, when the time comes. You may not know her now, but come to know her, and you'll see that you can trust her. But only her. It shall be the three of us and… please, Lord Stark, did you keep them alive? Tell me you did."

He cleared his throat. "Who?" But he knew the answer. "The men of the kingsguard are dead and buried. Any nameless men in their likeness who might have fled to Essos are none of my concerns. If they think to serve a rightful king, that is their mind, but not…"

"But not yours."

Had he been an adept player of the game, he would have simply agreed. Yet he was a Stark, the most honourable of them all. "Jon is the rightful king."

"He is, but he must not be for the time being. Take him far from prying eyes and keep him safe until the day comes. The kingdoms do not need another war now, they need peace. Let Robert play the role fate has assigned him."

"He is your brother," Stark remarked.

"And I love him with all my heart. But I know what he is, and what he is not. We both love him, and yet we both need Jon. We can either succumb to this dilemma or act against it. Which shall it be?"

He stared at me again with that sharp Northern gaze.

"I made a promise to Lyanna. A wolf protects its pack."

"The pack survives," I agreed. "Never speak of it again to anyone save your wife, and only when you are far from prying ears. The men you took to the Tower… you must send them far away, or remove them. No one must ever speak of it again. And neither shall we speak, Lord Stark. We will not meet again for a long time, but I swear to keep your secret. I'll keep it stored away so safely that not even the Spider shall find it, if you in turn promise to listen to me when we ever speak again."

He rose from the chair he had sat down upon, and simply nodded. "Never speak of it again, and do not forget it."

"I won't. It's not only the North that remembers."

He grumbled. "Greenseer indeed, wise beyond your years. Dangerous."

"But not for you, nor for your 'bastard'. I choose my enemies carefully, and I intend not for them to bear the surname Stark."

"Enemies? What enemies would a girl have," he spoke rather to himself as he turned to go.

"None as of yet. But mark my words, Lord Stark, I'll have a fair share of them even before we meet again. A girl may have no enemies, but a princess certainly will."

AN: Sorry for the delay. Please enjoy the thickening plot. Next up will probably be another time jump, a little greater than the one-and-something-years of the rebellion. Estelle will face the life of a princess and be fostered in an unexpected place, and she'll grow up to make good on her promise to find enemies. Please feel free to review and let me know what kind of future you see for her.