anastasia [got || on hold]

one

— one —

      WHEN NED STARK PRESENTS ELLARIA SAND A CHILD, SHE IS LEFT BAFFLED.

   That is until Ned explains to her who it is and how Jaime Lannister, of all fuckers, saved her. She cradles the girl as Ned explains what has happened. Arthur is dead, Elia is dead, Lewyn is dead, little Aegon is dead, but Rhaenys is not. Rhaenys is here, in her arms. Rhaenys is safe.

   Rhaenys Targaryen is alive and now Ellaria must ensure she lives, for her friend, for Elia.

   So, the night after Ned Stark leaves, Ellaria begins devising her plan alongside the Maester at Hellholt, the only other person she could trust in these times. The first matter of attention is the girl's name. Rhaenys Targaryen was no more, a mere casualty of war (though the true casualty was the butchers daughter who ran to warn the princess and was caught by the throat by Sandor Clegane). Now the girl needed a new name. A Dornish name.

   Rhaenyra, Ellaria decides, for the late Queen who would not let what was hers be taken from her.

   And so Rhaenys Targaryen became Rhaenyra Sand, and within the next week she and the Bastard of Hellholt traveled to Sunspear to speak with her uncles, and Ellaria's former lover. They deserve to know, Ellaria had told herself. Elia, Aegon, and Lewyn were dead, but Rhaenys was not, they deserved to know. So, that is why Ellaria Sand was currently standing before Prince Oberyn and Doran, hand tightly clutching Rhaenys's.

   "My Princes, could we discuss this matter in a more private area?" Ellaria prompts, eyeing the people roaming around them. Any of these people could be one of Varys's little birds, or Robert's informants. It isn't safe. They stare at her with narrow, inquisitive eyes. They trust no one, not even me. Not even Elia's  friend. "Please," she adds after a moment of silence. "It is imperative."

Oberyn nods before standing, understanding the pleading look in Ellaria's dark eyes, and letting the love he held for the woman manipulate his actions. She had lost someone too, in this war, and yet here she stood, head held high, dressed in the dark colors of mourning, yet not completely distraught. Something had happened, something important.

Oberyn leads Ellaria and Doran to the elder Prince's study, closing the door and locking it behind them. Doran, on shaky legs, sits behind the large desk and Oberyn stands beside him protectively, eyeing the little girl clutching Ellaria's hand. His first assumption was that he had conceived a child with Ellaria, which would not have been surprising, but there was something about the child. Her pale hand tightly clutches Ellaria's and she looks much too light to be a product of one of the passion stricken nights.