"Ms. Elaine I think it best if you sit, otherwise you might end up beside our Lady," Ser Marcos spoke softly, his eyes having moved from their tireless stare of the Dornish women to her Handmaids.
The blonde northerner looked up from her stare against the stone floor, eyebrow knitting together, "I'm worried."
"We all are," Marcos answered her, his tone was bored despite his own worries. He had no idea what was up with Lady Victoria lately, her mind seemed to be somewhere else most days and her sickness had put him on high alert. He was doing his best not to seem to concerned as to not scare Elaine but even he could admit there was some need for attention.
Elaine bit her bottom lip and took a seat on the wooden bench beside him, she had grown quite comfortable in the weeks as a Handmaid. He wasn't much for small talk which she understood but there was times that he found her silently questioning things to him. She was very observant, more so then he had anticipated but he respected her for it.
"Do you think it's stress? An illness? Maybe she grew sick from the cold air," The blonde shot off questions quietly, her eyes flickering every once in awhile to the sleeping girl. She hadn't woken since passing out and Maester Luwin couldn't find anything wrong with her. The man had gone off shortly after deciding Victoria was okay to attend to Bran and left the two loyalists to their lady.
"Elaine," the swordsman sighed heavily and adjusted his stance, "I think whatever it is we'll just have to wait and see what she says."
"Hopefully it's nothing horrid, I just hope Lord Stark returns to her side," the last of her words was said with a bit of fury and the knight found himself raising a brow at her tone. She was growing quite comfortable, enough so to talk badly about the presiding ward. He almost wished to snort at her comment, it's not like he could disagree. Once Robb had found that Victoria was alright he hadn't waited a second longer to go off. He'd gone to see Bran which was understandable but even then had left his brother to the Maesters trust.
"You've caught on quite quickly," was his only response.
Elaine stepped her pacing to look over and cock her head, "we've both noticed it, let's not act like it's quite shocking. I just wish her better."
Marcos sighed heavily, looking at the beautiful face of the maiden and his chest constructed. "At least someone else sees it."
"She loves him," Elaine spoke softly, her eyes on the peaceful Dornish women. "I've seen it too many times, but it is not love that everyone else expects to see but duty and there is no one more loyal then her. She's got enough that Lord Stark barely puts in the effort."
"Sound familiar?" Marcos remarked, his thoughts trailing back to a tale even before his time.
"Yes but she is not her aunt, she's a panther raised by wolves and snakes, who knows what she'll do." Elaine spoke proudly.
YOU ARE READING
DYING EMBERS || ROBB STARKFanfiction
"We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy." -G.R.R.M. (ROBB STARK X OC) (SEASON 1-8) (COVER BY @JustSav)