First of a series of short pieces about Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark: this one was originally written for a contest where I had to describe a character without saying his/her name. This one take place at Harrendal, on the eve of the tourney's first day.

And I'm sorry if the last sentence has lost its ambiguity in English, as originally was intended to be either Rhaegar realizing he had just experienced love at first sight, but also his wish to be a little more impulsive and lively (personally, I picture him as a rather quiet and sensible man).


Prelude

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She didn't have Elia's sweet frailty, neither Ashara Dayne's grace nor Cersei Lannister's courtly manners. If I must be honest, she was like no one I knew, may she be a living lady or a song's fair maid.

She had a rustic, wild beauty: her hair, woven with ribbons, was as black as a raven wing and her eyes had the hue of a misty winter morning. No other gentlewoman would protect her Lord Father's banner man, wielding a sword and fighting like a man, and it was that what made my eyes linger on her slender figure.

She was so different, so full of life… I could only wish to have for myself her ardour.