Cersei Lannister looks despondent. Her golden twin has joined the Kingsguard quite recently, as Arthur Dayne wished, and to Tywin Lannister's despair, or so Lyanna has heard from others. She doesn't know Jaime all that well. She's seen him at Harrenhal, but only in passing. Her eyes have been far too busy with another. Now she sees him standing there in his white cloak. He stands tall and proud, and Lyanna is very much aware of those green orbs staring at Cersei. If it makes her uncomfortable the she-wolf hides it well behind a thin smile. The feast they are attending will permit nothing less, nor will her upbringing.
Lyanna sits too far from Rhaegar than she would like, but this is their betrothal feast. It is a grand affair in King's Landing, with many lords and their families present. Not for the first time Lyanna wishes she was a simple woman and Rhaegar a simple man. They could have avoided all this. Alas, she must sit still and act with decorum and try not to stare longingly at her betrothed. She wants it all to be over. Or, at the very least, she would like to have a moment with him alone. Just the two of them together.
A ballad plays, it soothing tones reaching her ears. It is most likely a song of love and fair maidens and gallants princes. How could it be anything else? Lyanna beams graciously to Oberyn Martell when he issues an invitation to dance. Elia's brother is an impetuous man with an easy smile and handsomely swarthy looks. He gives his opinions on some of the stuffier participants that grace the hall and makes jokes in low whispers that only she can hear. Lyanna is reminded of Benjen, although her brother is much younger than the Martell prince.
The flames play a lively game in the hall, on the walls, making shadows stretch out. Through the golden sparks Lyanna sometimes catches a glimpse of Rhaegar as Oberyn twirls her. There are times when he looks at her, and there are times when he is speaking with the Queen. They have danced the first dance together, and a few after that. But it is his duty to stand by his family, as it is hers to stand by hers. They can stand close together only when they dance. Lyanna notices another silver crowned head somewhere at the back of the hall. She excuses herself from Oberyn.
Light steps carry her to Ser Arthur Dayne. He is what they call a valiant knight. The heroes of songs may very well be modelled after him. Lyanna doesn't know his personally, yet they all say he is a friend of Rhaegar's. If Rhaegar values him, he must be a man of valour. Lyanna Stark can see kidness in his face, but she can also see sorrow. It makes her heart clench, the look he wears when he thinks nobody is watching him. "Ser Arthur Dayne, a word," she calls.
Arthur Dayne regards her composedly. He bents over her hand and greets her as any proper man would. "Lady Stark." His deep violet eyes, so much like Rhaegar's, cut through her. It makes Lyanna all the more curious of him. "How may I be of use?"
She has not thought about that. "I simply wanted to meet you," she answers. Lyanna is not much of a liar. She cannot lie so she doesn't try. This she has in common with Ned. The wolf maiden smiles without thought. "Would you care for a dance?"
"If my lady wishes it." He offers her his hand, and there is a moment of understanding passing between them. Arthur Dayne grins, almost boyishly. "You bring my sister to mind."
Glad for the compliment, Lyanna inclines her head. Ashara Dayne is not unknown to her. She's seen the woman at Harrenhal, dancing with Eddard. They spin on the floor. Lyanna cannot help but take note of the way his eyes drift to the side. She tries to circumspectly gauge the object of his pursuit. There is Elia Martell a few tables away. She is talking to another noble woman. Lyanna feels herself chill suddenly, there is a sense of foreboding that creeps over her. "Can a knight be released from his oath to protect the King as his personal guard?"
"Mayhap, if the King so wishes." The Knight says nothing else, nor does Lyanna expect it of him. What he dreams is nearly impossible. Elia Martell is untouchable to him. Perhaps Rhaegar will consent to setting his friend free of his oath when he becomes King. But there is still time to pass until then. Who knows where Elia will be then? At some point many thought Elia would be wedded to Jaime, and Oberys would take Cersei. That had been Joanna Lannister's wish. With her death the plan was abandoned.
Returning to her previous place, Lyanna sneaks a glance towards Rhaegar once more. He is looking back at her. The Mad King distracts his son, and Lyanna finds herself in the company of Cersei Lannister. Cersei is older by a year than Lyanna, but looking at her you would think it is rather more. Tall and slender, with a fine cascade of golden hair, Cersei is much admired wherever she goes. Even now eyes follow her with ill-disguised desire. Other women watch enviously.
For her part, Lyanna greets her respectfully. She is much aware that Brandon wants nothing more than to hold the lioness' attention. It is a slight upon poor Catelyn's devotion to him. Lyanna shakes her head and turns her eyes away from yet another brewing affair of her brother's. Would that Ser Arthur was released and Brandon would take his place. Or mayhap, have him marry Cersei. Catelyn would suit her middle brother better, Lyanna thinks. She signs; these are dreams that fill her mind. She wishes for the godswood and the sacred tree. Here in King's Landing she finds it hard to pray; more so as she does not keep the faith of the Seven. Lyanna is a Stark of Winterfell and keeps to the gods with no name. That much cannot be changed. She can but hope for the best outcome.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity of waiting, Rhaegar approaches her. He takes her hand and they dance again. This song is of her own lands, a little more sombre, seemingly detached. Those who don't know the North and its people very well, tend to find them unfeeling. Lyanna will laugh and laugh at that if ever it is said to her face. Northerns are just like any other people; yet she won't tell anyone that. Let them see exactly what they wish to see. Rhaegar does not disturb her thoughts with words, he simply wards away all others with his mere presence.