Chapter 2
The Dragon's hand

Though Lexa had been ordered – Clarke had insisted it wasn't an order but a recommendation, as she was in no position to give any order to a royal – to stay in bed and use her leg as little as possible, it didn't stop her. Rather, she could be found out of her room far more often than she should be. Her first order of business, of course, was to thank her hosts.

They were in the middle of having breakfast, the next morning after Lexa's arrival. The whole family was sat around a long and old wooden table. Lord Kane was seating at the center, Bellamy at his right and his wife at his left. Aden was seated beside his mother, while Octavia and Clarke sat side by side, on Bellamy's side. Everyone seemed excited today. Clarke tried not to be too excited because she was supposed to spend her day following the Princess or rather stopping her from leaving her bed, and she knew the thought alone should not have made her blush but she couldn't stop herself. So she looked down at her plate and stayed silent, listening to everyone else's conversations.

Kane and Bellamy were talking about going on a hunt soon, maybe the next day. Aden was excitedly asking to come with, but both of his parents were against it, saying he was too young. Of course, the ten-year-old was not pleased about it. Octavia suggested they could train together instead. Her father was obviously keeping his comments about Octavia's plans to himself.

Just as Clarke was about to excuse herself, there was a knock on the great hall's door. The Keep's maester walked in, his heavy chains tingling as he walked. He was supposed to check on the Princess this morning and make sure she feeling better.

"My Lord, my Lady, Princess Alexandria would like to speak with you."

Kane and Abigail exchanged a look, and Kane put his fork down.

"Should I go to her chamber?" he asked, unsure.

"No need, My Lord." a voice declared from behind the maester.

The old man stepped aside, and Lexa limped inside, without anyone's support. Clarke straightened her back and tried not to glare too much at the Princess. She seemed to notice, however, and only smiled at her.

Lexa walked until she was standing in a foot from the table, standing with barely a hint of pain running through her body.

"My Lord, My Lady, I would like to thank you for your hospitality."

Lord Kane nodded.

"I should be the one thanking you, Your Grace. You and your people have been far more effective than mine, and soon our land will be safe once more, thanks to you."

"My mother swore to serve and protect the people of this land, and I intend to uphold that vow. I have sent out my Unsullied. They will finish the work while I stay here and recover. With your permission, of course."

"You are welcome to stay for as long as you would like, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Lord Kane. Now if you'll excuse me, I must return to my chamber and rest before Lady Clarke drags me to bed herself," she added with a smirk, directing her gaze toward the blonde for a second before turning around and limping out of the room.

The maester moved forward and tried to help her, but she waved him off, declaring she knew the way back, and the door of the great hall was closed once again. All eyes suddenly turned to Clarke who felt her cheeks grow red.

"Did she just call you Lady Clarke?" Octavia wondered, confused.

"I told her to stop, she doesn't want to. It's not like I can make her."

Bellamy couldn't hide his smirk, just like Octavia.

"But you're pretty good at bringing her to bed, apparently."

"Children," Abigail warned, as beside her Aden seemed more and more confused.

Bellamy, however, didn't listen:

"You know what they say about her? That half of the maidens of King's Landing are no longer maidens because of her."

"Bellamy!" Abigail declared, offended.

"Yes, please, Bellamy, don't offend our guessed while she's here," Kane added.

The young man shrugged. Clarke felt her cheeks grow even redder. She was torn between staying here and let everyone make stupid comments, or leave now and probably suffer even more dubious comment from her half-siblings later.

"Can I be excused? I have to keep the Princess in bed, apparently."

Both Kane and Abigail nodded, and Clarke pushed herself away from the table, ignoring Bellamy and Octavia snickering behind her back.


In the following days, Clarke found herself torn between her duty – keeping an eye on the Princess – and her heart – staying as far away from the Princess as possible, because nothing good could come of spending so much time near her. But since the Princess had decided to be good and stay in her bed the first few days, she'd had little reasons to stay by her side. Plus, the heir to the Iron Throne was a grown woman of near eighteen years of age, she didn't need a babysitter.

This particular morning, however, after finding her chamber empty, Clarke couldn't help but worry. She checked the guard tower but found that not even Rhaegal was standing there. It took her quite a bit of wandering around to finally find the Princess.

Lexa had been seating in the garden, on a stone bench, her eyes on the flowers blooming in the trees above her. The garden was small, a small enclosed space on the western side of the Castle, just a small patch of land with a few trees and bushes, nothing pretty by any means. But Lexa hated being stuck indoors. She believed she probably took after her father on that part. Staying still for too long made her feel hollow, and staying inside made her feel caged. It reminded her of when her dear brothers had been trapped too, under the Great Pyramid of Meereen. She hated it then and she still hated it now, and she was a dragon as much as them. Nothing could keep a dragon caged for long. But someone, maybe.

She turned her head when she heard footsteps coming her way. It was Clarke. She smiled and waited until the blonde was standing in front of her to declared:

"I knew you'd find me."

"Is it some kind of game to you? Making me run around the Keep until I find you?"

"Nothing of the sort, my Lady. I just needed some fresh air. I thought my legs would wither if I didn't take the time to stretch them."

"Have you stretched your legs enough now, Your Grace?"

Lexa shook her head and stood up. It took more time than necessary as her leg protested, but she pushed past the pain with an almost scaring ease. Had she been wounded so often now that her body was almost immune to pain?

"Actually, I would like to walk some more. Would you like to come with me, My Lady?"

Clarke hesitated for a second. What had happened to stay away from the Princess? But still, how could she refused the invitation when Lexa was holding her head out for her to take. How could she say no, when a simple word as 'my lady' had made her heart flutter? She placed her hand on Lexa's arm and replied:

"I would, Your Grace."

They took a first step, then a second, falling into a slow rhythm soon enough.

"And please, call me Lexa. No need for formalities, I haven't even been crowned yet."

Clarke frowned.

"Are you sure?"

Lexa nodded with a smile.

"Yes. Lexa was how my mother called me. It is how my siblings call me. How most of my mother's friends call me to. I guess it is time for me to make friends to call me by my nickname as well."

Clarke could feel the heat of Lexa's skin, even through her thin leather shirt.

"As you wish, Lexa. But you have to stop calling me a lady. I'm a bastard."

Lexa shook her head and protested quickly:

"Never let your birth limit you in this life, or the next. My siblings' father died before he could marry my mother. Does it make them any less entitled to the throne than me? I doubt it. If anything, they are better prepared for it than I ever was."

Clarke looked at the brunette with a strange awe. She remembered her mother telling her as a child how she should never let people mistreat her just because she was a Storm, and she'd lived by that truth every day, no matter how hard it sometimes seemed. But Lexa was something else. She believed she could live by more than her station, how the name Storm should not stop her from doing everything she wanted. Really, Lexa would make an incredible ruler, soon.

"May I ask, why haven't you been crowed yet?"

Lexa smirked, mysterious. There was a glint in her green eyes which made Clarke's brain stop functioning altogether, for less than a second. Her next thought was a whisper in her mind, telling her Lexa was not from this world.

"What do you think? Why haven't I been crowned yet?"

Clarke shrugged, unsure. She found Lexa's eyes wouldn't leave her own, and it made her heart beat slightly faster in her chest.

"I don't know. Perhaps you have to be wed before you can take the crown?"

Lexa laughed. It was a strange sound, so foreign to Clarke's ears. Like Lexa should not laugh, not because it didn't sound right or beautiful, but on the contrary, because it rivaled with some of the most beautiful sounds in this land, and it made Clarke want to smile uncontrollably. Lexa's laugh was a spell, and Clarke had fallen victim to it wholeheartedly.

"Could be. Lord Tyrion has been insisting more and more that I should marry someone from one of the great Houses, make a strong alliance."
"Then why haven't you?"

Lexa seemed to be standing closer to her now, though she didn't remember when she'd come so close, close enough that she could feel more heat radiating over her entire right side.

"Well, let's see. First, there's the North. The only male heir would be Lord Bran, but his mind is always somewhere else, never quite there. He wouldn't make for a good husband. Not because he's a cripple, but because his mind soars so far even I couldn't keep up on Rhaegal's back. Of course, I could always wed Lady Stark."

The thought alone made Clarke blush.

"But she has had eyes on another for many years now, one she could never have."

Lexa's other hand came to rest on Clarke's arm, and Clarke felt her heart stop completely in her chest, until it started again, twice as fast as before.
"Than, there's the Riverlands. Lord Tully's son is far too young for me, maybe we could wed him to my sister, but I wouldn't advise it yet. I want to see how the boy turns out first. The Eyrie? Lord Robin would be an even worst husband than Brandon Stark, I'm afraid. He's weak, easy to manipulated and easier to offend. He's a boy in a grown man's body, listening to the first bird who would come to whisper in his ear. He's not a falcon he's... well.. a robin, if you'll excuse my joke. He'd make a good husband if you want someone easy to get rid of, but not a King."

Clarke listened, enraptured by every word coming out of Lexa's lips. She tried not to look too much at her lips, but she found it was hard as Lexa continued her expose:

"The Westerlands still belong to Tyrion Lannister, and since it seems he will have no heir to leave it to, it should fall in the hands of the Lannisters of Lannisport soon enough. But Lord Tyrion did advise strongly that should not marry a Lannister, and I agree."

Lexa seemed to slow down slightly, her leg aching. But after a breath, she was back to walking, still holding Clarke close. Before the blonde could even ask whether she wanted to stop and rest, she continued:

"The Reach has now fallen in the hands of Margaery Tyrell. The last Golden Flower of Highgarden, they call her, hidden in the North for most of my mother's conquest. It seems three dead husbands and a burning scare has made potential suitors run away from her. She too has eyes on someone whom she could never get."

Clarke frowned.

"Who?"

Lexa wagged her eyebrows.

"Who do you think?"

Things seemed to connect in Clarke's mind.

"She and Lady Stark?"

Lexa nodded.

"It is a badly kept secret. They love each other, but they can never be together. Their senses of duty for their houses are too strong, they'd rather die than surrender their houses to live together. Neither of them can make that sacrifice, so they stay in this strange in between, loving each other from afar."

Clarke couldn't help but sigh.

"It's quite sad."

"It is. It is a fate I would never wish on anybody. But it isn't like we can do anything about it either."

Clarke felt a pang in her chest. This was the fate she feared most, she realized. The walls around her heart were coming undone, taken apart by the Green Dragon. How long before the brunette got to her heart, and how long before she left, and flew back to King's Landing with it? She pushed the thoughts as far away from her mind as possible.

"The Stormlands. They have been given back to the Baratheons, to thank Lord Gendry for his services during Winter's War. He is married now, to one of your cousins, if I remember correctly. His children are also far too young for me. And Dorne. Or rather, the mountain of black powder that is Dorne. Since the fall of the Martells, the noble Houses of Dornes have been in a strange state of unrest. A civil war should have come ages ago to determine a new ruler, but not a single house has dared to make a move yet. It is quite strange, such a calm state, especially coming from the Dornish."

Lexa smiled and came to a stop. They were back at the bench where they'd started.

"So tell me, Lady Clarke. Who should I marry then?"

Clarke was silent for a long minute. She tried to push that little voice shouting 'Chose me, please, I can be yours if you want me'. She hated that voice, as much as she hated herself for losing her mind every time she looked into Lexa's eyes. She'd never been one to fawn over knights in shiny armor and tales of bravery, and this sudden urge for love was terrifying her.

"How about someone from a smaller house?"

Lexa nodded.

"A wise choice. More sons to pick from. It would anger the great Houses, however."

"So, what have you decided, then?"

"Nothing so far."

Lexa turned around, letting go of Clarke's arm. She took a step toward the nearest bush of roses and picked one, careful not to prick herself. She then turned back to the blonde and handed her the flower delicately.

"But I promise, you will be the first to know when I finally settle my mind."