Chapter 118 115

The Vale. The Eyrie. 298 AC.

Elena Snow.

The bird's sudden death rang through Elena's mind like a struck bell. No one had ever taught her how to use and develop her gift as a warg, but she had managed to work out the basic rules and patterns on her own. A skinchanger had to form a bond with a creature before entering it. The stronger the bond, the easier the entry. It allowed not only sight through the animal's eyes but a sharing of sensation between beast and person.

In animals she had tamed, a small fragment of her own consciousness remained attached, allowing her to track them. If she needed a creature to carry out something over an extended period, such as a five-day flight, a larger fragment had to be committed to it, but then Elena would share everything the animal felt, including its death.

What she had felt in the bird's final moments had been deeply unpleasant. Unlike ordinary circumstances, she had experienced it fully, with nothing to blunt the sensation. A second of fear, of panic, the sharp agony of talons tearing the body apart, the feeling of her insides scattered across the slopes of the Vale. There were no words for it.

Her animal had only been killed once before. A Baratheon raider had decided to shoot a bird sitting peacefully while waiting for a reply, it was a man from Renly's faction. An arrow through the eye, a quick and painless death, just a sharp shock and then nothing. This had been something else entirely, the full spectrum of what dying feels like.

It took ten minutes before Elena could bring herself back to anything resembling composure. Four thoughts had lodged themselves in her head and refused to leave: there were eagles in the Vale that could kill her animals, she did not want to feel that again, the prospect of it happening again made her feel ill, and tomorrow she would have to send another bird, but this time she would be more careful.

Having settled that in her mind, she was ready to go to sleep. The evening was well advanced, and the day had been exhausting: the secret alliance between the Arryns, the Martells, and the Targaryens, followed by the sensation of dying, had worn her down to nothing.

Unfortunately, a persistent knock at the door put an end to that plan. She pulled on her night robe, took her knife, and opened the door. Before her stood two of the Eyrie's household guards in full armor, led by their captain, Ser Eyris Claw. Axel's vast retinue of former sellswords had received surnames, titles, and lands from him in considerable numbers. Eyris had been among the first in line for rewards, but had chosen to remain with Arryn.

"Lady Elena, Lord Arryn wishes to see you," Ser Aerys said, his voice even. At least he had not said "Lady Snow," as the capital's gossiping hens had loved to call her.

"Please give me a moment to make myself presentable," she managed.

They nodded and stepped back from the doorway. She closed the door and stood there trembling, not from cold. What reason could a man have for summoning a woman to him in the evening? A stupid question. Elena knew she was beautiful, strikingly so. That was not vanity, it was simply a fact. It was difficult not to notice when every male from boyhood to old age watched her with poorly concealed want. She had lost count of how many times someone had tried to pressure her into bed, using every method available, and had never once succeeded.

In the North, her father's name had protected her. In King's Landing, her position as a handmaiden to the future queen had kept the worst at bay after the civil war began, Cersei unwilling to let anyone damage her sacrificial lamb. But now? If it had been some landless hedge knight, she would have cut off the relevant part of him herself. But the Lord Paramount of the Vale?

She dressed as modestly as her wardrobe allowed, giving Arryn as little to look at as possible. A desperate plan had taken shape in her mind. She knew that her father, despite all their differences, considered the Falcon's Eye a genuine friend, something close to a brother. From her recent observations of Arryn, that feeling appeared to be mutual. She only needed to press on that friendship and avoid giving him any reason to act.

Even a plan as thin as that gave her the steadiness she needed. She was ready for the meeting.