Lydia

The days in King's Landing crept by in Lydia's opinion. She had expected Margaery to be waiting for her in the Capital, and was disappointed when she learned that her friend would not arrive until later in the week. When, she did not know. Lydia had spent her days with the Princess and young Prince, watching them with amusement as they played with Bluebell and Tommen's newly acquired kittens.

Bluebell, for all her intelligence and understanding, had been confused by the small balls of mewling fur. Lydia had stood by with baited breath as the young prince introduced his three kittens, Ser Pounce, Lady Whiskers and Boots, to the curious direwolf. The kittens had mewled quietly at the wolf, causing Bluebell to be quite puzzled until she plopped down onto the floor to inspect them better. She had sniffed at them, knocking the poor things over repeatedly as she tried to determine what they were. Eventually she had settled and let the kittens crawl over her, much to Tommen's delight.

Confident that her wolf would listen to the Princess, Lydia had left Bluebell in the care of Myrcella and Tommen. Lydia saw no danger, and if there was the Kingsguard members that followed the royal children would surely protect them. Speaking of guards…

"Elric, come sit down," Lydia said as the boy walked by. The gardens in the Red Keep were almost as impressive as the ones in Highgarden. Lydia sat beneath a flower covered gazebo that overlooked Blackwater Bay, and watched as the white-capped waves crashed against the rocks. She had grown to appreciate how the sea air chased away the stench of King's Landing. She turned her gaze on her recently acquired shadow. Elric startled from his daze and quickly shook his head, a few strands of his golden brown hair falling on his forehead.

"It would be inappropriate, my lady," he replied as he approached her. "I am supposed to guard you."

"Yes, because the flies are plotting my death as we speak," Lydia said dryly. "Fine, I will continue to sit and you can stand while we converse. No more of that pacing."

"My lady," Elric started, but Lydia stopped him with a look. She smiled slightly as his shoulders sagged in defeat. "As my lady wishes."

"Good. Now tell me, Elric, how did you come into service of Lord Tywin?"

He stood a little straighter at that, a small smile appearing on his face. "I am the fourth son, and with my eldest brother being married eight months ago, I knew there would be no future for me if I stayed home," he began. "My father is old friends with the guard Captain for Lord Tywin, so naturally he suggested I go join the guard." Lydia had to smile as she watched Elric become more animate as he talked. "The guard Captain is a rough man, and he told me the day I arrived that he only accepted the best to his ranks. So I trained for six months before he tested my steel. He had me go against the other guards one at a time, before testing me with two of the guards at the same time. I held my own, but Captain Edwin was true to his words when he said he only chose the best. They knocked me on my arse soon enough! Oh! Forgive my language, my lady," Elric quickly said. His face reddened as he suddenly realized how long he'd been rambling.

Lydia shook her head, a genuine smile on her face. "There's nothing to forgive, Elric. Please, continue."

He stared at her for a while before nodding, a bit of redness still clinging to his cheeks. "Yes, well, um, I was on the ground thinking to myself that that was it for me, and I'd have to go back home with my tail between my legs and all I could think was what my brothers were going to say, but Captain Edwin came over and helped me up. He told me that I had great potential," a wide grin spread across Elric's face at that. "I've been with the guard ever since. Captain Edwin was the one who recommended me to be your personal guard, my lady."

"Well, I'll be sure to send Captain Edwin my thanks for choosing you to be my guard," Lydia said as she plucked a grape from its vine.

A small twinge of joy spread through her as Elric's face reddened once more. "You are too kind, my lady," he replied quietly.

And you are too easily flattered, Lydia thought as she chewed on the sweet grape. "Be careful about what you say, Elric. You may come to regret it in the future," Lydia stated. She smirked as Elric shook his head.

"I don't think I will, my lady," Elric insisted. "I know you've only been Lady Lannister for a little more than two months, but, and you must forgive me for saying this, you've overcome everyone's expectations."

Lydia tilted her head. "Have I? Do tell."

"If it's what my lady wishes. There was some...hesitance amongst the staff about having their new lady be from the North. Customs are different, I suppose. Some of the older staff, well, they remember," Elric's voice dropped down to a whisper, as if afraid someone would reprimand him for what he was going to say. "Lady Joanna. I think they were concerned they would have to teach you how to run a Southern house."

"Were they now?" Lydia laughed as she leaned back into her cushioned seat. "Are they still worried?"

"No!" Elric answered quickly. "Of course not, my lady! As I've said before, you've overcome everyone's expectations! Whoever taught you Southern courtesies is an excellent teacher!"

"You would be correct on that, good ser," a soft, feminine voice interjected. Lydia perked up at the familiar voice, and stood as the figure approached her little alcove. "My grandmother is a superb teacher. Though she can be a bit strict at times."

"Margaery!" Lydia greeted happily. She skirted around the table to embrace her friend. "By the Gods, I was beginning to worry. I thought bandits had ambushed you!" Lydia joked, as she stepped back though she did not release her grip on her friend's arms. Margaery laughed softly, and gave Lydia a playful squeeze.

"I assure you, no bandits. Though we did run into a particularly agitated flock of sheep on the way here," Margaery said as they finally broke away from one another. "I must apologize for interrupting your conversation though, but I couldn't help it." She turned to Elric, who blushed quickly and shook his head.

"There's no need to apologize, my lady!" He stammered out.

Lydia smiled, beckoning her friend to take a seat. Margaery thanked her, and took a seat across from Lydia. A warm breeze floated by, pulling Margaery's soft brown locks from her shoulders. "So, how is life as the Lady of Casterly Rock?" She asked as soon as she settled.

Lydia turned to Elric, and smiled. "Do you mind giving us a bit of privacy Elric? It's just a bit of girl talk, and I wouldn't want to bore you with it." Elric nodded, and quickly muttered that he would be within shouting distance before walking away. As soon as he was out of earshot, Lydia slumped into her chair, causing her friend to chuckle softly. "Honestly Marg, it's been a complete bore without you here. My direwolf is finding more entertainment than I am, and all she's been doing is following Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen."

Margaery relaxed against her cushioned chair as well, crossing her legs and gazing out at the sea. "I heard about your pet. Apparently the beast is the size of a pony?"

Lydia scoffed, and began to pick at a loose thread on her sleeve. "Rumors, for now. She's barely the size of a fully grown hound." Lydia glanced up at her friend, who met her eyes and smiled. "How has Highgarden been?"

"Quiet since you've left," Margaery replied, reaching for a grape. "I've managed to convince my cousins to take up hawking. Elinor has taken to it like a fish to water. Leonette sends her love, as do my mother and father. Grandmother said to say congratulations on your marriage to the 'Old Lion's cub', which brings me back to my original question. How is life as Lady of Casterly Rock?"

Lydia hummed, looking at the numerous flowers as she thought about her answer. "It's been a bit difficult, seeing as some of the staff is unused to being ordered by a lady, but I have been enjoying the challenge." She turned to face Margaery once more, and was unsurprised to see her friend giving her an expecting look. "But I assume that's not the answer you were looking for," Lydia said with a smile.

"Of course not!" Margaery gushed as she leaned forward. "I want to know about your husband! Is he everything the songs sing about? Does he know how to pluck your harp?" Margaery raised her eyebrow in a suggestive manner, and Lydia let out a bark of laughter.

"Only if the songs sing about abstinence," Lydia muttered after a short while. "He bedded me on our wedding night, and that's the last time he's touched me. I don't know what's happening down there, but apparently it repulsed him." She let of a sigh of defeat and leaned her head back. "I've tried everything short of getting him drunk and to be honest he'd probably force himself to throw up to avoid me. Honestly, am I repulsive?"

"You know you're not," Margaery remarked. "If you were, you guard wouldn't be panting after you like a dog in heat." Lydia smiled at that. Margaery did know her well. Margaery leaned back, a thoughtful look on her face. "Perhaps, he does not long for the touch of a woman?"

Lydia shook her head. "I thought that as well, but I had Nora investigate if he had any lovers, man or woman, and it seems he wasn't fond of anyone. Not even a whore." Though he seemed to have spent a considerable amount of time with the Queen, Lydia thought. She looked ahead of her, not focusing on anything in particular as she contemplated her situation. "I have debated on whether or not to bring the problem up to Lord Tywin, but I fear that he will merely cast the blame on me." Sighing, Lydia propped her chin against her hand, a frown etching its way onto her pretty face. "Honestly, this marriage is becoming more trouble than I first thought."

Margaery smiled sadly at her and reached out of gently pat her arm. "But it's the path you chose," Margaery softly said. "So you must endure it."

They sat in silence for a while, with Margaery gazing out into the ocean, and Lydia simply thinking over her choices in life. "I'm sorry," Lydia gently said after a while.

Margaery shook her head, a small understanding smile on her lips. "There's nothing to apologize for, my friend. Not to me, at least," she replied. "You should talk with Willas though. He understands as well, but it would be good to have some closure...for both of you."

Lydia laughed the sound bitter to her ears. "I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Why don't we start at hello?"

She felt her heart stop at the sweet, familiar voice. Turning slowly, Lydia felt her breath catch in her throat. "Willas."

He was still handsome; with his neatly cut brown hair and the ever persistent scruff on his face. His beautiful brown eyes gazed at Lydia warmly, and she wanted nothing more to stand and embrace him. But she couldn't. Uncertainty gripped at her, freezing her to her seat and only allowing her to follow him as he sat in the next to her. "I'll leave you two alone," Margaery said softly. She stood gracefully, the chair making minimal noise as it slid across the stone floor. "I will see you at dinner, brother."

"Be careful, Marg," Willas called after her. Lydia watched as her friend made her way through the garden, and suddenly she was aware of how alone she and Willas were. "You are looking well, Lady Lydia." Willas commented. Lydia smiled politely, thanking him and a silence fell between the two with Willas looking at her, and Lydia looking at him.

Lydia wondered what he saw. Was she still the same woman he knew three months ago or had her marriage to Jaime changed how he looked at her? Did her marriage ruin whatever relationship they had? Willas broke her thoughts and the silence with his sweet voice. "You're still as beautiful as ever," he whispered. Lydia felt her heart flutter.

Smiling shyly, she replied, "Be careful with your words, Lord Willas. I am a married woman now."

His brown eyes flickered, and his smile broke her heart. "I know," he replied gently. "But let us not talk about that. I heard you acquired a new pet?"

Lydia nodded and began to tell him about Bluebell. Her marriage to Jaime could wait, for now she was happy to be in the presence of someone dear to her.