the ballad of elissa swann (a.t.) (UNDER EDIT)

nine

When the sun was high in the sky, Aemond pointed out a mossy structure on the horizon and lead the way over. It was, too their great fortune, an abandoned hunting shack - and though part of the roof was caved and moss overtaking the walls, it was assuredly empty and it was unlikely they would be disturbed.

"I can hear a stream," he said, dismounting. "The horses need to drink - I'll take them over, and you can get settled.

Elissa nodded, and utilizing the convenient fallen tree beside Grindstone, managed to dismount herself without issue.

Aemond scrutinized her for a moment. "Where's your dagger?"

Elissa pulled back the coat to reveal where it was sheathed in her belt. Aemond smiled approvingly. "Clever girl. Keep it handy, just in case."

"Go," she nodded. "Deal with horses, I'll scope inside."

He took Grindstone's reins and went to follow the sound of the bubbling stream, and Elissa watched him disappear into the trees, mentally codifying the path he had taken - just in case. She shifted the pack on her shoulder, and cautiously opened the ajar door.

It smelled damp and earthy inside, and She noted that the walls of the hut were not stone as she might have expected, but sod. However, the hay on the ground was dry, and likely more comfortable to sleep on than the stone floor. Glancing around, she gingerly peeled off her coat and tossed it over the hay, making a bed for herself. She sat down and tested it - and though it was far from where she had last laid her head, it would do, she rationalized.

She took the moment and reflected on the events of the past few days. Until then, she had been running on fumes - first the surprise of finding the prince breaking in, and then the fear and subsequent agitation with her captivity. Now, she wasn't a captive but a conspirator, a fact which despite herself, gave her a degree of satisfaction.

And, her stomach twisted when she considered that which she had tried to ignore: her grandparents, the Lord and Lady Swann. What did they think had happened to her? Did the council send a raven to make excuses, or were they worried sick still at having found her bed empty and her clothes strewn on the floor by a window, with her nowhere to be found? Guilt roiled in her belly, as all the dread she had been avoiding for days took the opening to attack her. She drew in a shaking breath, and hugged herself. She willed herself desperately to still, to calm down, but only found the tremors worsening.

She leaned sideways and rested her cheek on the cold sodden wall, shuddering.

"Elissa," the voice of her companion was low and laced with a mix of irritation and concern. Aemond crossed the distance to her in a few strides and crouched beside her.

She looked up at his eye and found his image blurred by tears. Upon trying to speak, she choked on a sob.

"Mother above," he swore, and pulled her into his side. Unthinking, she grabbed a fistful of his doublet and cried an awful, pained noise. She clung to him like she might drown if she didn't, and though stiff at first, he relaxed his hold on her and brought his other hand to rub her back.

She keened dreadfully, her voice foreign to her own ears, and she shook until she had spent herself, falling silent with her face pressed against his now damp clothing.

Only when she had quieted did he speak again. "What has happened?"

Elissa rested her cheek against the fabric of his garment and hiccupped. "I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I'm here." she croaked. "And my grandparents," she gasped, "Do they know? What do they think happened?"

Aemond sighed. "They think you have taken ill in the night and found me in the hall. They heard that I brought you to King's Landing so that you could be treated by the grand maester, as Borros Baratheon's maester wasn't in residence.