Post by LiquidChicagoTed on Apr 24, 2024 22:51:44 GMT
Act I: A Fate Uncertain
Chapter 2: Broken Vows
Ellena
Chapter 2: Broken Vows
Ellena
The waves crashed against the hull of the Pale Princess and the breeze picked up as the ship made its way towards the coast. Ellena sat at the railing, watching the waves and letting the wind play with her black hair. In the distance, the lush, green shore of the Reach was visible, had been for hours now. And for even longer, Ellena had been able to spot the silhouette of the tallest building she had ever seen. At first she had thought that it had to be some sort of mountain, because what else could it be with such a size? But the closer they came, the more she realized, much to her bewilderment, that it had to be an actual building, a tower most likely. It was by far the tallest building she had ever seen in her whole life, even taller than the Titan, who guarded the lagoon of Braavos. And it got only more impressive the closer the small merchant cog got.
Now it was afternoon and if Talea’s estimation was correct, they’d reach Oldtown within the next half hour. By now, there was no other word to describe the tower but immense. The entire city was immense, but not even nearly as beautiful as Braavos. It looked rather worn, old in every sense of the word, overflowing with too many people. Now that she thought about it, Ellena found it quite strange that she actually missed Braavos. She had spent all of her twelve years in the city of the Hundred Isles and had ever taken its beauty for granted, at least until she had to leave. Still, she would not go back. She could never go back. Not after… The girl tensed up, blinking away the brief tears that threatened to stain her cheeks. No, she would find a new home.
“An inspiring sight, isn't it?“, she heard a familiar voice behind her. “I always loved that view when I was younger. The Hightower and the port, the mighty Citadel and, more than anything else, opportunity in the streets between them”
As she turned around, a smile formed on her face. “Terroma!”, she exclaimed, as the older man climbed the stairs up to the prow. He was short and a bit on the pudgy side, in his fifties or older, which made him positively ancient in Ellena’s eyes. His hair was fully grey already and he was half-bald, though what remained was tied into a short ponytail. His smile was there, a kind expression full of warmth and a fatherly understanding, but thankfully he kept his mouth closed this time. He was one of the kindest people she had ever met, but his smile could only be described as hideous, his mouth filled with yellow, half-broken teeth.
Back when Ellena had snuck aboard the Pale Princess in the port of Braavos, she had hidden in his cabin, having believed it to be empty. That had been a mistake, but a good one for a chance. When Terroma had entered his cabin that evening, she had tried to hide under his bed, only for him to find her immediately. In the first moment, she had been afraid of him and who wouldn’t have? But Terroma had surprised her by proving himself a different man, with kindness and an almost unsettling patience. He had listened to her story and after she was finished, he had given her a hug and a kind smile and his bed for the night, while he himself had slept on the floor.
He had kept her hidden until the Pale Princess was too far away from Braavos to return, before he revealed her presence to the rest of the crew. The captain had been angry of course, but his daughter had been rather amused by the whole incident and Terroma had vowed for her. In the end she had been allowed to stay aboard the Pale Princess. Soon, Ellena had learned that she had snuck aboard a merchant cog, travelling between Braavos and the cities of Reach. That had been two weeks ago and she had spent this entire time aboard the ship, while it passed the Stepstone Islands and sailed along the arid shore of Dorne, only briefly stopping at Salt Shore for provisions.
“Have you been to Oldtown before, Terroma?, she asked the older man. She remembered what he himself had told her, that he used to work as a merchant himself, before retiring at an early age, now investing his sizeable fortune in establishing trading routes, much as… much as her father had done.
Terroma’s eyes barely left the Hightower and the ever closer shore. “A few times in my youth“, he sighed while his constant smile slightly faded. “Back when I had still been active in my chosen profession”
A brief look of concern flashed across Ellena’s face. “Is everything alright?“, she asked. Terroma was a friend, a protector and seeing him unhappy worried her. She had not met a man like him since that dreadful night. One year she had spent in a dark orphanage near the House of Black and White and even the memory sent shivers down her spine. It had been a horrid place.
Terroma still looked in the distance. “Not all memories are good“, he finally mumbled as if he had read her thoughts, before looking back at her. “But I don't want to worry you, little Ellena. Soon we will arrive in Oldtown. It is a beautiful city, even though it's true beauty is often overlooked, sometimes overshadowed by the more hideous parts of it…“
Ellena smiled. “So Oldtown is like you and your teeth...“, she said with a slight chuckle. When Terroma raised an eyebrow she added “That's a meta… metaphor, I think. My old teacher taught me all about those!“
Terroma let out a short laugh and gave her a yellow, horrid smile. “For such a young girl you know a great deal of odd things”, he smirked. “Yes, that was a metaphor. Albeit not a very good one, since I am by no means attractive, even when I have my mouth closed“ They both started to laugh. It was easy to laugh with Terroma and somehow he always knew how to make her smile. In more than one way, he reminded her of her father. Her father…
As quick as it came, Ellena’s smile faded. Her father was dead, murdered almost a year ago. Murder wasn't uncommon in Braavos, but the assassination of her father had still caused a commotion. It was nothing unusual that a few bodies would be fished out of the canals every morning. Braavos attracted shady folk like every other big city, perhaps even a bit more. But usually, the poor would fall victim to this. But Ellena’s father had been rich. They had been living in a big mansion. They had protection, guards, connections. Rich people were not for the common thugs to kill, for they were the domain of the Faceless Men…
… a soft voice, deceptively gentle, a knife in hand, mockingly asking her father how he wished to die…
No! She refused to think of that night! Ellena turned around, away from the soaring tower, away from Terroma, so that he could not see the tears she felt welling up in her eyes. “Is everything alright Ellena?“, the older man asked and his tone was warm.
Ellena nodded. “I... think I'll go to the lower deck, see if I can help Talea a bit“, she answered and for a moment she was afraid her voice might crack. Terroma had been kind enough not to speak another word, as Ellena walked away from him and down to the lower deck. Not for the first time she realised that he could understand her pain well.
The lower deck was the realm of Talea, the captain's daughter and indisputable bookkeeper of the Pale Princess. She was a few years older than Ellena and a bit taller, a plain-faced woman with fair skin and dark brown hair. When Ellena found her, she was about to give one of the sailors his payment, a middle-aged Tyroshi with a forked green beard and sunburnt skin… Moreo was his name, or something like that. Though she had no issues with the crew, there were some men she stayed clear of, such as this one in particular, for his sour disposition. Even before she reached them, she could see that he was not in a good mood and neither was the captain’s daughter. Both were standing straight, glaring daggers at each other. “Twenty irons for your monthly service aboard the Pale Princess“, Talea listed.
The Tyroshi nodded. “Twenty irons, yes m'lady!“, he said with a slow growl, slamming his purse onto the table with prejudice. “Then tell me why I only have fifteen in this purse...“
Even though she could not see her face, Ellena was certain that Talea was smiling. This seemed to be her favourite spare-time activity, juggling numbers and pissing off mouthy sailors. “Three coins subtracted two weeks ago, for breaking a bottle of wine from Norvos. One coin subtracted for being shit-faced on duty. The last coin subtracted for the accidental displacement of my father's silver spoon. And I am merciful with that last one, Moreo!“, she listed.
The Tyroshi, Moreo, stomped with his feet. “Ah, go fuck yourself Talea...“, he grumbled and attempted to turn around. The captain's daughter quickly grabbed his arm. “One more coin for insulting your superior. And another one for behaving like a petulant child!“, she said, while holding out her hand. Moreo muttered something in his green beard, but nonetheless handed her two more coins from his purse, before leaving the lower deck as quickly as possible.
“Bloody fuckwit...“, Talea mumbled before turning around and noticing Ellena standing only a few steps behind her. Ellena couldn't refrain a grin when the accountant's face dropped. “Ellena... You were not supposed to hear that last one...“
Ellena shrugged. “Don't worry, I already know that word“, she claimed. She did, for she was twelve years old already, almost a woman grown and ready to have her own adventures!
This time Talea gave her a sly smile. “Not in the way I meant it, trust me”, she claimed. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought you wanted to see how we enter the bay of Oldtown. The Hightower’s truly impressive up close!“
“Already did. Already saw the tower and I think I even saw the Citadel. Then I talked to Terroma and decided that I had enough of watching towers and citadels. Do you have anything to do?“, Ellena explained. Her mood brightened almost immediately, as her banter with the captain’s daughter already drove away the darker memories that had haunted her, at least for a moment.
Talea shook her head. “Afraid not, sweetie. We're going to berth every moment”, she explained. “I got the inventory ready, gave each of our men their tasks once we dock and I even planned dinner for father. After dealing with Moreo...“
Ellena interrupted her. “The bloody fuckwit, right?“, she said and her smile widened. Talea’s cheeks turned slightly red and after a moment, they both began to laugh and laugh, until her sides began to hurt.
“You really weren't supposed to hear that!”, Talea barked, but she smiled as she spoke these words and her eyes were warm and full of laughter. “Please, not a single word to Terroma...“
“I doubt Terroma would disapprove. He never disapproves!“, Ellena answered with all her certainty. She had snuck into his quarters and yet the man was still kind to her. He was perhaps the only man she could still fully trust in this world.
Talea shook her head. “He does disapprove of some things. He is just more subtle about it than the rest of us”, she clarified. “Anyway, don't tell him, okay. He is like a fu... caring mother hen for you. After dealing with Moreo… the bloody fuckwit, I wanted to go upstairs either way, watching Oldtown from the safety of our Pale Princess. One of us can’t get enough of that view!“
A call from the upper deck signalled that the Pale Princess was about to berth in the harbour of Oldtown. Talea and Ellena quickly made their way up and Ellena finally saw the city as a whole and finally up close. It was huge, quite possibly the largest city she had ever seen. The harbour lacked the elegance of the Purple Harbor of Braavos, but was far bigger. Ships from all over the world were docked there. Ellena saw a swan ship from the Summer Islands, several trading ships from the Free Cities, countless Westerosi ships, even a ship that seemed to be of Ghiscari origin. Her mouth fell wide open as she saw the sheer number of people ashore, this blend of noise and scent and sights.
“It's good to be back“, a voice mumbled behind her. Terroma had once again managed to approach them in complete and uncanny silence. The short man looked at the city with what seemed to be anticipation. “Say, dearest Talea, how long will the ship stay in Oldtown?“, he asked.
“We plan to stay for six days, before travelling further to Raylansfair“, the accountant answered quickly. She had already told Ellena about Raylansfair, a cosy town in the northern Reach that she took a special liking for. Once a year the Pale Princess took the journey through the Redwyne Straits, along the western shore to Raylansfair. Talea seemed to anticipate this part of the journey the most and Ellena was quite curious about it as well.
“Do you plan to leave us in Oldtown, Terroma?“, Talea asked. Unlike her or Moreo or any of the others, Terroma wasn't part of the crew, instead he was simply a regular passenger on the Pale Princess who had handsomely paid for his stay here.
The retired merchant shook his head. “I do not intend to do so, dearest Talea. I'm going to meet a friend in the city and hopefully return soon. For today, I only intend to take a walk through the city, see how it changed since last I’ve been here“, he explained. A walk through the city? Ellena looked up. She had never been to a city other than Braavos. And Oldtown seemed to be remarkably different to her beautiful home.
Maybe she could accompany Terroma for today. The thought was fascinating. “Terroma... could I come with you today? I'd like to see this city“, she asked with a high-pitched voice and big eyes. That trick had always worked in her earlier life. And even though she was quite tall for her age, she still knew how to seem like a cute, innocent little girl. It had always worked with her father. It would work with Terroma.
Terroma seemed to be uncertain only for a moment. “Of course you can, little Ellena“, he said with a soft voice. “Stay close to me and I shall show you a few of my favourite spots in this city”
“Excuse me?“, Talea spoke, her voice showing slight irritation. “She is twelve years old Terroma! And you know that Oldtown is dangerous. Too dangerous for a girl. What if you get attacked, or if she get's lost? Stay with me at the ship, Ellena. It won't be boring. Maybe I can show you the harbour“
That… sounded remarkably boring, all things considered. Talea was pleasant company, but Ellena would not want to be around her an entire day. “Worry not, sweet Talea”, Terroma interjected, having caught Ellena’s gaze. “This city holds no danger for me. By my side, little Ellena will be safe and sound” He took a slight bow in front of the captain’s daughter, who clenched her fists, but remained silent. She exchanged one look with Ellena and after realising what her decision would be, she gave her a nod.
Playfully, Ellena offered her arm to the old man who took it with the gentle care of a father. “Alrighty then!”, she chirped, as she gazed down the lavish docks. “Shall we?”
To be continued
Jenna
Jenna
”Come on! Give me more, you filthy maggots!”, Ser Ilhan shouted, while effortlessly parrying a strike. His riposte was a swift, quick and severe blow to the recruits lower leg. The young man fell on the ground, clutching his leg and howling in pain. Ser Ilhan showed him no mercy and started to deliver heavy strikes to the recruits ribs, even one deliberately slamming the wooden sword against the young man’s injured leg, before finally letting go of him. The recruit immediately began to crawl away.
”And that is how you don't fight! Have you seen how he completely failed to defend himself?”, he continued to instruct the cowering recruits in front of him. “You don't need to deliver the strongest hits on the battlefield, you need to stay alive. You understand that?” Obediently, the recruits nodded, but even from afar Jenna could see a familiar fear in their eyes. A few days ago there had been seven of them, young boys from the surrounding farmlands who had dreamt of becoming new guards for the keep in these changing times. Jenna had known some of them for most of her life. Today, only four recruits had appeared for the training. One had left House Raylan's service, another found a job in the kitchen and a third was still barely conscious after the Impaler had hit him on the head. Watching the downed boy crawling away. She presumed that now there were only three recruits left.
Jenna was watching the training from her safe and comfortable place atop the gatehouse. In the evenings the guards came here to play cards, but in the afternoon, this was her place. Lady Halla had no need of her services during these hours, so she often spent them in this small room, sitting on a chair, watching the recruits train. It was a comforting sight, strangely enough. Sometimes she gazed out of the other window, the one that faced the city. She had always loved this view. But Ser Ilhans fighting lessons were definitely more entertaining to watch than the coming and going of the city below. Once, she had considered him a terrible teacher, not unlike Lady Halla, a man who was only able to induce fear in his recruits. Just like Lady Halla, he had the nasty habit of bloodily beating any of his lessers who failed him. On the other hand, Jenna could not deny that the castle guards were exceptionally trained, at least from what little expertise she had on the topic. It was hard to imagine better drilled troops in all of the Reach. As such, for all his flaws she presumed Ser Ilhan at least genuinely understood something about his profession. In that case he’d differ starkly from Lady Halla.
”Lady my ass, she's a slave-driver”, she mumbled, before putting her hands on her mouth in sudden shock. Did she just say that aloud? Oh, by the mercy of the Seven, hopefully no one heard that! But who should? Jenna Harking glanced around with wide eyes, before calming down again. She was alone. And she liked it that way. Nobody could harm her in this room. Here, she felt safe.
”Come on! Next! Are you maggots? Or are you piles of shit?”, the Impaler shouted. ”Come on, show me that you are maggots at the least! Maybe two of you this time?” Jenna looked down at them and smiled. Yes, she was safe here. She never understood how anyone could ever want to become a fighter. Her grandfather had a soldier, but he died in battle. And it did the family no good. Jenna still remembered her mother, her soft smile, her brown eyes. But nothing more. When she thought of her mother, she only saw the smile and the eyes. The rest had vanished over the past ten years. But she vividly remembered the despair and helplessness she had felt as her mother had died. Starved to death, as Maester Eaton had said. Maester Eaton... For a short moment she closed her eyes. And was horrified by that. She was able to think about her mother without feeling sadder than usual. But the thought of Maester Eaton made her almost teary-eyed. She had barely known the man! Yet, his death was fresh. It had been less than a week. It would get easier, yes, it always would. She just had to stay calm, like always. She just had to smile. It was easier when she smiled, lest the tears would return.
Of course, Ser Ilhan defeated both of his opponents without even breaking a sweat. The first recruit, a fat boy from the village, didn't even manage to launch an attack in return. The second managed to deliver a weak blow to Ser Ilhans chest. The following strike to his shoulder was enough to knock him to the ground. Jenna shook her head. What a bunch of idiots, spending all day playing a war, while in the Dornish Marches a real war took place. Her brothers were there side by side in an uneasy alliance with the Storm King’s host, fighting against the Dornishmen. Ever since they had left, there had been no word from them. Jenna tried her best not to think about it too much. ”Just smile, Jenna, just smile”, she mumbled to herself.
”What was that?”, a voice called out to her. Startled, Jenna spun around, only to calm down as she recognized the figure standing the doorframe of her little safe haven. Carma Strad, a fellow servant and no danger to her. She was the wife of the local tailor and a mother of three young children. Beautiful even after three pregnancies, with bright golden blonde hair, far more radiant than Jenna’s mousy brown, with bright blue eyes and a smile that always looked kind and genuine, where Jenna’s smile ever had something forced to it. She had always considered herself decent looking, but next to Carma anyone would feel like an ugly duckling ”You're talking to yourself, Jenna?”, the other woman asked in a friendly tone.
”You startled me!”, Jenna gasped, but her tone was more playful than accusatory “What are you doing here?” She placed her hands in her hips and tilted her head slightly, as he smile grew wider.
Carma reciprocated the gesture with a smile of her own, but hers quickly lost its brightness. ”Lady Halla told me to look for you”, she answered. “It's almost time. You should go down and bring Ser Ilhan a refreshment”, she answered and held up a small carafe. “Sorry for that, Jenna. I tried, but she wouldn’t lay off of you”
Immediately, Jenna’s eyes widened. ”Me? But... why me?”, she stuttered. Much as she enjoyed watching his display, she hated talking to Ser Ilhan. Something about him always frightened her. Then again, she somehow managed to be afraid of Leonard Constantine too and he was arguably one of the nicer people in this castle, at least to the common servants.
Carma shrugged. ”I haven't asked her. The lady is in a particularly bad mood today”, she said, before handing Jenna the carafe. ”How about you do that and I’ll try to humour Halla” It was a generous offer and for all the sympathies between them Jenna would not have done the same in return. Though only five years older than her, Carma acted like a mother, sweet and caring to all of the other servants. Because of that, Jenna admired her. She wanted to be like her.
With a weak nod she took the carafe. “You’ve got yourself a deal”, she sighed. Hells, why did it have to be the Impaler? She worked here for two years now and in all this time, she had only ever talked to him once, but that had been enough to scare her for a lifetime! In the right light his eyes almost appeared to be red and his always disgruntled face with the fine wrinkles on his bald head was enough to give her nightmares.
“I know it’s not easy, but give him a chance”, Carma argued. “He’s no Constantine, but he ain’t too bad to the servants. Gruff, but I never saw him mistreat one of us” Her expression hardened. “Else he wouldn’t be standing so firmly anymore, that much I can guarantee” It was no empty threat, but she followed it up with the sweetest smile Jenna had ever seen on her. Still, it did little to calm the girl. She grabbed the carafe with two trembling hands and tried her best not to spill anything as she made her way down to the courtyard.
She was trying not to be afraid.
Ser Ilhan was just finished beating up the last recruit. One of his recruits could hardly walk anymore and had to be supported by his companions, who dragged him off the field. ”Get a hold of yourself, maggots, and stop whining for fucks sake!”, Ser Ilhan shouted. He had his back turned to Jenna, but somehow sensed her coming, glancing over his shoulder long before she reached him. His expression shifted slightly and the look in his eyes got colder than “And do you want, little lamb?”, he asked with his snarling voice. Jenna almost dropped the carafe in sheer terror as the Impaler pointed his sword on her. It was only a wooden weapon and blunt from overuse, but in his hands almost anything could be a deadly weapon.
”M...M'lord....”, she began to stutter. She stopped and with a silent plea, she raised the carafe towards him, hoping he’d understand what she wanted and hoping he'd leave her alone in return.
Ser Ilhan took a few steps towards her and grabbed the carafe. ”Are you afraid of me, Jenna Harking?”, he asked and she could not stop herself from flinching as he addressed her by name. Seven have mercy, he knew her name! How and why? Jenna gave him the thinnest of nods. This obviously amused the Impaler. ”And why are you afraid of me, girl?” This time his voice softened up a bit. His intense eyes stared at her, but for just a second, he seemed less of a monster.
Jenna took a deep breath. Why indeed? Because she had been watching him train for years now. She had seen how he acted towards those who looked up to him. ”Because... m'lord you always shout and you always beat the recruits and you always look so angry...”, she stuttered.
She almost fainted as Ser Ilhan grabbed her shoulders. His grip was soft, but determined. ”You really need a backbone, girl!”, he barked. “Walk with me and I'll tell you a thing or two. Who knows, maybe you’ll learn something!”
Jenna felt immediate fear rising inside of her. ”Oh... No... No... please m'lord I have work to do. Lady Halla will be angry at me...”, she stuttered. Much as she preferred even his company to that of the housekeeper, she knew that Halla had a bad day. A bad week even, now that Lord Robert was dead. If she’d keep her waiting, she would be on the receiving end of her feared beatings. Many a servant in the castle bore scars from Halla’s worst tantrums and Jenna wouldn’t want to join their ranks.
Ilhan the Impaler laughed his raspy laugh.”Bullshit. Lady Halla isn't worth the shit she produces”, he exclaimed, bold and fearless and yet, Jenna instinctively glanced around, half expecting the housekeeper to listen to them. “You little kitchen maggots learn nothing from her. She is just there to scare you. Come on girl. Walk. With. Me” Those last words were spoken with emphasis. Jenna couldn't do anything, her legs moved on their own. Gods, for years she hadn't been that afraid.
Together with the Impaler, she walked towards the walls and climbed the stairs, him a few steps in front of her and her trying to keep up with him. Once up there, gazing down the walls, Ser Ilhan made a handwave, pointing at the city. ”What do you see there, Jenna?”, he asked. “When you look down the walls, what does this mean to you?”
”M'lord I don't understand. I see Raylansfair...”, she said, before she paused and actually took a moment to think about his questions. The city below her… houses upon houses, distant walls, the port… “I see home”, she added.
”Exactly!”, the Impaler shouted so suddenly that it made her wince. ”That's what I talk about, girl! You see Raylansfair. Home. A place to live in. A place where you belong”, he growled. ”The people there, the ones you belong to, are just like you. They are weak, they are soft, they are maggots without any backbone. All it takes is one mean-looking Dornishman like me and you all piss your pants. Girl, you wouldn't recognize real danger if it kicked you in the face” He made another handwave, this time towards the ocean. ”And what do you see there?”, he asked, his voice now dangerously low.
Jenna looked at him, in a mix of curiosity, confusion and utter terror. What did he want her to say? What did he want to hear? Only one thing was clear, he wanted an answer. ”I see... I see the ocean...”, she whispered. Even before she saw his face, she knew he was displeased by her reply.
”The ocean...”, he mumbled, before throwing his hands in the air. ”The motherfucking ocean! How typical for you people! You look at the Sunset Sea and only see an ocean. Well, I see danger!” He glared at her and now, he seemed more like the monster she had expected. And yet, there was something else. Something that urged her to stay and reconsider. “Tell me, are you afraid of me?”, he asked.
Jenna gave him a weak nod. Oh yes, she was afraid of him. In all her life she had never been so afraid, not even of Lady Halla at her worst. ”You don't need to be”, he answered and to Jennas surprise, his face softened, making his entire expression shift and the look changing from monstrous to merely stern. ”I am no danger to you”, he claimed and there was something in his tone that made her believe him. “I shout, I scream, I cuss like a sailor and I beat my recruits bloody. But real danger lies across this ocean. Have you ever seen an Ironborn, girl?”
Jenna shook her head. “I… no, m’lord. Only ever heard the stories”, she stuttered. “Enough to keep me awake at night” Six years ago, they had last attacked. But they had attacked the city, not the surrounding farms. She had never seen an Ironborn before, but she had heard stories about them and they were quite enough for her liking.
”Well, the Ironborn, they are actual monsters. They are the danger”, the master-at-arms stated. “I shout and look angry to show my recruits what a charging Ironborn raider will look like. I beat them bloody to show them how an Ironborn fights” Jenna took a deep breath. Ser Ilhan did not seem to be angry or terrifying right now, but rather she spotted genuine concern in his voice.
Still, she was afraid.
”But m'lord, your recruits hate you...”, she mumbled. Ilhan gave her a toothy expression that she only recognized as an honest smile at second glance.
”I don't need to be loved by these maggots if they only survive in battle”, he growled. “I am the master-at-arms. Nobody will ever tell me that he loves my work. Nobody will ever thank me for knocking out his front teeth. Not even when he manages to parry such a strike on the battlefield, a strike that would knock out more than his teeth. But that's alright. I don’t need their love. I need them still alive tomorrow, day by day”
Jenna looked at him in a different light now, unable to fully wrap her head around the fact that there seemed to be such an oddly human side to this man. ”Why are you telling me that?”, she asked and noticed too late that she failed to adress him as 'm'lord'. “M’lord Lagoon, Ser” His grimace was perhaps the closest thing he could get to actual amusement.
Ilhan shook his head. ”Take a guess, girl! You are weak, probably one of the weakest little maggots I have ever seen! You are so afraid of the world, it is almost comical”, he snarled. “I cannot even begin teaching you some backbone unless you overcome that fear!” Jenna noticed that she shivered. ”Are you still afraid, girl?”, Ser Ilhan asked. Jenna nodded. Yes, she was still afraid. And there was little that Ilhan could say that would make it different. ”Then do me a favour…”, the master-at-arms began “I want you to imagine a monster. The most terrible one that fits into your little brain”
Jenna obliged, though she knew she would fail this task. The most terrible monster she could think about could not be pictured. Even the statue of the Stranger in the Sept managed to give fear a face. And that was better than nothing. Sheer and utter horror, that was something Jenna could not depict. How should she imagine famine? How should she imagine death? Her dying mother, maybe. But that was not the embodiment of death and famine. Dead or not, that was her mother. Only smiles and eyes remaining. True death was something so much more terrifying that she couldn't even dare to imagine it. That was a monster one could not comprehend.
”I... I can't, m'lord”, she finally said. To her surprise, Ilhan patted her on the back. ”That's right, Jenna. You can't”, he confirmed, visibly pleased with her reply for the first time “Neither can I” His confession brought a surprised look to her face and this time, he shot her a crooked smirk. “Don't look so surprised, I have fears too, only mine are a soldier’s fears”, he added. “My greatest fear is death, not mine but that of all the people I care for. I can't imagine what such a death would look like. I have seen dead people. I have seen dying people. But death, the pure embodiment of death…”
This time, the master-at-arms paused and she noticed how clenched his fists were. “For a while I imagined it as a giant, winged shadow, raining fire down on us, one of the dragons of old that drove my people over the Narrow Sea”, he continued. “But true death can't be depicted. And in that moment I understood that there are horrors far bigger than anything we can ever imagine. Death being the worst of them”
He leant against the railing, looking from her down the courtyard, where the last of his beaten recruits had finally managed to retreat. “What I try to teach my recruits is not to be afraid of what they can grasp. They shouldn't be afraid of me. If it can be seen, it can be killed”, he continued and Jenna could only listen carefully at the master-at-arm*s surprising wisdom. “If I frighten them, they should not piss themselves like children. They should attack me.They should be furiously angry”
“You harden them”, Jenna realised, much to the older man’s visible relief. He took a gulp from the wine bottle, but she shook her head as he offered it to her. She was a light drinker and today was not the day where she’d test her limits. Ilhan shrugged, taking another gulp before he continued to speak.
”That's why I am here. To teach them that monsters exist. Ironborn being the worst of them. But also bandits. A drunkard with a broken bottle. Anything that can hurt the people we love”, he sighed. “But more importantly, I also teach them that swords exist and that they can be used against monsters. I teach them that there is a sword for every monster. The good ones, they listen and they find the right one for me. And the moment they land their first proper blow on me, the first real blow and not this shitty caress they managed today, then, Jenna Harking, you should see the proud look on their eyes. I take maggots and turn them into men. I teach them how to survive. Does that make me a monster in your eyes?”
Jenna looked at him in confusion. Was Ser Ilhan really trying to help her? Why? But she shook her head. ”You are no monster m'lord... if you tell the truth...”, she told him. “I… may have misjudged you”
His laugh was a terrible sound and made her wince. ”That's a good first step!”, he barked. “I have seen you a few times, Jenna Harking and until now even seeing you made me angry” His admission was not surprising, but still, to think that one of the high men of the keep had an opinion on her at all made her uncomfortable. Jenna was much more comfortable with just staying out of sight and out of mind. And yet, something about Ilhan’s words made her reconsider. “You are scared of Lady Halla, you are scared of me, you are scared of Ser Harris. That is pathetic!”, Ilhan continued with a growl. “But you are not beyond hope. I shall make you a stronger person, if you want it or not. That is an order!”
Jenna gulped. ”What do you want me to do, Ser Ilhan?”, she asked. She noticed how weak her voice sounded. She noticed it and for the first time in years she wanted to sound different. Her voice was a wonderful and fitting for her. She was unassuming and no threat with it. She was overlooked and overheard. That was all she had ever wanted until now. But something had changed. She wanted to sound strong. She wanted to wipe that judging look from Ser Ilhans face. Wanted him to look at her with something other than pity or contempt.
”What I want you to do is to become stronger. To face your fears. You are afraid of Lady Halla, right?”, he asked. Jenna nodded. ”Lady Halla is a weak person. Do you know why she never screams when she talks to me? She is frightened of me. That's why she hates me, because I know what sword to use for the monster that she is” He leant closer and his grip around her shoulders tightened, as he gave her an intense glare. “She can deliver strong blows, but once someone retaliates, she will go down. In all my time here, there have been only three servants who had managed to shut the Lady up. Do me a favour, girl. The next time she says something nasty to you, make it four. Find your backbone”
There was something in the way he spoke that made Jenna feel... braver than before. Was that his job? Making people feel brave? All these years in which she had been afraid of him, all for nothing. He was no monster. And maybe he could make her stronger. Did she really want to be stronger? Jenna looked down onto the Sunset Sea, to the horizon, where real monsters lurked.
She tried to be brave.
To be continued
Alrighty then, onwards to Broken Vows! This part received some extensive rearranging. Most notably, Jenna's part has been moved ahead, with the latter paragraphs of it cut, they will instead be combined with her final part, which is still going to be the Chapter 2 finale. I want her storyline to sort of frame this chapter at the beginning and the end. Her part here has also been extensively remastered, with several wonky paragraphs rearranged or cut entirely and replaced by more fitting ones, including a lot more heart to heart with dear Ser Ilhan. This should improve the general feel of her storyline significantly. The same, but to a way lesser degree, is true to Ellena's storyline. If you disliked either of their storylines in the beginning of Book 1, I urge you to give this part a reread, I think it should be notably improved.