Dara ignored Elbert just as much as he ignored her - it was an easy thing to do, truly, because he had never been interested in her at all and resented that Lord Arryn had set their betrothal before either of them were old enough to voice an opinion on the matter, even though such was the way of things - and kept her arm linked with Brandon's, laughing aloud at his salacious comments and making certain to keep her free hand tight with Lya's, who had her hand tucked firmly into Ben's elbow. Dara had so little opportunity to spend time with her brothers and sister, and she intended on making the most of it, which meant keeping Brandon away from the various great beauties who had converged on Harrenhall with all the finest knights of the realm and making sure that Lya did not do anything rash.

Elbert and Robert were roaring laughter at something or other nearby - while Dara did not think much of her husband-to-be, she was very fond of her fool foster brother, and only wished that he might behave better so Lya might get a better impression of him - and so Dara did not worry about them even a jot, relieved instead to have a day to spend entirely in her siblings' company without any greater cares than ensuring Brandon did not take it into his head to seduce to Crown Prince's wife just to see if he could.

And then she saw him.

She did not know his name, but he was beautiful - smiling and bright-eyed and tall and broad but elegant with it. His hair was much darker than her own, his eyes a wonderful indigo-blue, and the man in white at his side might have been his twin but for his starlight-fair hair.

"Who are they?" she whispered to Brandon, who seemed to know who everyone was, gesturing as subtly as she could towards the two men - they had to be at least brothers, surely, none but brothers could be so uncannily alike, as alike as herself and Lya - and blushing when Brandon started to grin.

"They, sweet sister," Brandon said, uncharacteristically quiet (mayhaps to spare her further blushes, he could be oddly considerate of her shy nature when he put his mind to it), "are the brothers Dayne - Ser Arthur and Ser Asric. Ser Arthur, in the white, is a sworn brother of the Kingsguard, and that leaves Ser Asric, though the younger, as heir to their eldest brother, Lord Allem Dayne of Starfall, in Dorne." His grin widened. "Ser Arthur supposedly keeps to his vows, but Ser Asric has a reputation as a cad. I'm sure he'd bed you if you were interested, Dara."

She didn't dare let go of Lya's hand, so she could only scowl up at Brandon and hope her cheeks didn't look as red as they felt.

"You are a terrible brother," she announced, but she couldn't help but laugh along with him.

Asric Dayne had always enjoyed court, and coming to Harrenhall for this tourney was just one more opportunity for fun before Allem called him back to Starfall again.

"Do stop fussing, Arthur," he said, wrapping an arm around Arthur's shoulders and tugging him closer. "I solemly swear to at least try to behave myself while we are here. I promise I shan't shame the family name, brother dear, honest I do."

"You are a spoiled brat," Arthur said firmly, "who is far too used to having his own way. Mother ought never have indulged you so."

"She indulged you quite as much!"

Arthur grinned.

"Never," he denied, shoving Asric away and darting towards the keep. "You were always her special pet, little brother, and you always played on that to get your way!"

Asric was used to getting his way, he admitted to himself as he chased Arthur through the castle, but not only because he had always been their mother's special favourite - Asric was quite aware of how handsome and charming he was, and he made use of his abundant natural gifts to have more fun than Arthur had ever had, that much was a certainty.

He didn't even see the long-faced lot - brothers and sisters, they had to be, for they were near as alike as Arthur and himself - until he was tumbling over the taller of the girls (women, gods above but she was certainly a woman) and hurridly rolling off her.

"My most sincere apologies, my lady!" he gasped, springing to his feet and holding out his hands. "I was preoccupied with my brother and did not notice you, forgive me!"

"You are forgiven, ser," the man - the other was a boy, barely two-and-ten by Asric's estimate - said, steadying his sister and smiling. "My sister is tougher than she looks, she will be quite fine, I assure you - risk hurting her again, though, and I will not be so readily forgiving."

He rushed away then, mortified, and it took him all the rest of the afternoon to discover just who it was he'd knocked over - Lady Eddara Stark, eldest daughter of the Lord of Winterfell, foster-daughter of the Lord of the Eyrie, and betrothed of Ser Elbert Arryn, Lord Arryn's heir, as well as foster-sister to the Lord of Storm's End.

Asric was determined to see her again, to ask at least why she had allowed her brother to speak for her when he ran into her, and so determined to dance with her at least once.

Dara loathed dancing, but she still danced - with Brandon, and with Ben, and with Howland Reed who was an even worse dancer than she was herself.

It wasn't that she lacked grace, or even coordination - she completely lacked any semblance of musicality, which was made even more irritating by her siblings all being more than proficient, even Ben, who was all knees and elbows.

"My lady?"

She looked up, wondering if Elbert had finally been shamed into doing his duty - gods be good, even Robert had asked her to dance! - and was stunned to find the dark-haired man from earlier standing over her, watching her curiously and smiling.

"I am afraid I did not pause to introduce myself earlier," he said, sweeping a bow as he continued, "Ser Asric of House Dayne of Starfall, my lady."

"Lady Eddara of House Stark of Winterfell," she returned, offering her hand and blushing when he raised it to his lips. "May I help you with something, ser?"

"Well, my lady," he said, smiling wider than before, "I am bereft of a dance partner - the Prince has stolen away the Princess Elia, and I cannot think who else I might dance with."

Dara felt her eyebrow lift, and fought back a smile.

"I am sure you would have no shortage of partners, ser, if you were only to look a little further," she said wryly. "For instance, to our left-"

"Oh, dance with me, Lady Eddara Stark of Winterfell!" he laughed, holding out his hands just as he had after he knocked her over. "I promise you, I am quite good enough for both of us - I saw you dancing with your brothers, and I swear that I am a better partner than either of them. Do dance with me, my lady."

She told him to call her Dara, shy Eddara, and she danced with the reluctance of a girl with a prettier sister and a betrothed who seemed more interested in other women, and then she refused to kiss him.

Asric thought he might be in love just for that, because he could not remember the last time a woman said no to him after he actively set out to charm her, betrothed or not.