BUTTERFLY

277 AC

Kingsroad

When she woke in the morning, the sounds of a bustling campsite and soft rain on the tents linen welcomed Sheira. She had dreamt of a life in a white palace, stood in front of a throne that had spikes so sharp they gleamed in the light. In front of her, a man with white hair and two dragons by his side. Perhaps she should ask Rhaegar for a mentor, or someone to teach her of his families history.

She had stayed awake until late into the night, well after supper and broth, long after her mother had brushed her hair out for her. Laying in bed wondering what her father would have made of her current predicament. She thought about Rhaegar's prophecy, she thought about how his family had lost so many in such a short amount of time, about her mother, her brothers.

Father. Why did you have to leave us with him? Sheira had whispered into the dark.

They hadn't seen Drazenko since stopping, he was probably off somewhere telling people things that weren't true. He had a knack for doing that. Lying and being a pest.

Alyse stirred from her bed, her brows were furrowed and her cheeks wet. Sheira pushed off the fur that kept her warm during the night at her side and went to her mother's bed, wrapping her arms around her. "Mother," Sheira whispered.

"Yes?" Alyse yawned, wiping her eyes and looking up at he daughter.

"Shall we get ready for the day? I'm sure we will be moving again, perhaps we can ask for tea from the servants?"

"What did I do to deserve you, hmm?" Alyse smiled, rubbing Sheira's cheek. She propped herself up and sighed looking around the tent. "Let's get you ready. I fear there might not be any declining the prospect of a betrothal from the Targaryen side so you might as well do your best to get to know people."

Sheira frowned, standing up and smoothing out her dress. Her mother stood from the bed as well lifting her hands above her head and stretching.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, they've been looking for a wife - of Tagrayen descent for Rhaegar for a while now. And Rhaella tells me the King does not want his son to marry into any of the current ruling families. There is one prospect, but she said that it could be arranged for their family to be promised another betrothal - either your children or hers," Alyse stood behind Sheira and brushed through her hair with her fingers. "Do you understand?"

Sheira nodded, she did understand. Though she could not fathom talking so liberally of ones body and child. She pursued her lips, drawing in a breath as her mother's fingers snagged on a knot in her hair. "Will we send invitations to Lys - if there was to be a wedding?"

Alyse scoffed, "who would we send them to dear? The guards at the bank? Drazenko's whores? Or the family that is scattered and that would tear each other apart at the smell of gold." She sectioned off hair from Sheria's ear and began to braid it, doing the same on the other side and eventually joining the two braided strands to meet in the middle of her head. "No darling, the only thing you should be worrying about right now - is making Rhaegar infatuated. Sickly in love. So much so it hurts. His parents do care for his input, after all, he is the Prince."

"Are you suggesting I flirt?" Sheira laughed, she wasn't the type. In Lys, she waited until the men made the initial move, even then she hadn't flirted with anyone properly. Not in the least when a life-changing opportunity was at the end of it.

Alyse turned her around and sternly said, "it's that or marrying your brother. This is not a joke Sheira, you have time for fun when what is necessary is secured."

Since when was her mother so concerned for Sheira's marriage prospects?

Sheira shrugged he mothers hands from her shoulders, "I am not a puppet mother. Rest assured I will do what I can to make myself appealing to the Prince and his family, but I will not grovel and beg."

"And what makes you think I was suggesting you do grovel and beg? I told you to make him fall in love, even if the love was for your beauty, and not your person."

"That's much better."

"Listen to me Sheira. With your father gone now, there is no room for maybe's and if's. Your brothers will return to Lys as rich men and they can leave us for good," Alyse said, her voice shaking as she spoke in a low tone.

Sheira gave her mother a quizzical look, she had always made her discomfort around Drazenko's behaviour made known, but she had never outrightly talked of wanting to rid of him - nor her other son Valaar.

"Mother? How can you speak about your own children like that?"

Alyse's bottom lip quivered, "I love you and your brother - know that much." She picked up a pitcher that rested on the log that Sheira had been sitting at when speaking to Rhaegar the day before and left the tent.

...

After washing her face and breaking her fast with Rhaella's ladies in waiting, Sheira chose to walk around the campsite as guards and servants alike prepared to pack everything up. She wondered how far the trees that surrounded them stretched, The Seven Kingdoms seemed to be full of forestry, unlike Lys' pristine streets and high statues of gods and goddesses. She eventually rested on a chair that had been grouped up with others. It was simple in design and squeaked as she sat down facing away from the campsite.

Sheira knew her mother had told her to mingle and get to know those who had travelled with the Targaryen's, but she was never one for talking, much less talking to people she had never met before. She didn't have the charm nor charisma other ladies her age had. She couldn't talk about how cool the air was, how pretty the flowers that bloomed looked, the colours of a dress nor the styles of hair. Even though Rhaella's ladies did try to involve her.

'What an odd creature Rhaella has on her hands,' one had whispered when Sheira excused herself.

"The Prince is looking for you," Valaar's voice came from behind her, his finger lightly tapped her shoulder.

"For me?" Sheira asked, wondering what he could want to talk about again.

"Yes, for you," Valaar rolled his eyes, "come."

She stood from the chair, firstly wondering why Valaar was being so crude, not that she minded, and secondly thinking back to her mothers' words.

Just smile and blink and ... play with your hair or something. Sheira thought to herself.

Valaar led her to a small pond, Rhaegar was sitting by it, a dusted patch of grass next to him. Sheira assumed Valaar must've been in conversation with him. "Your grace."

Rhaegar turned, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Sheira. "That was quick."

"Sheira is quite predictable in all honesty," Valaar responded, his eyes following Rhaegar as the prince stood from the floor and took Sheira's hand in his own to kiss it.

Valaar left without another word, leaving Sheira even more confused than she was before they had spoken. She shrugged it off, Sheira had bigger things to worry about than a jaded brother.

"I was told you were looking for me, your grace? Is everything alright?" Sheira asked him, placing her clasped hands in front of her.

He smiled sheepishly and pulled out a folded piece of parchment from his trouser pocket. "I couldn't sleep last night ... truthfully because. Well because no woman has been accepting of my - well of my intention to fulfil my prophecy," his eyes looked up, "that's a lie. They have been accepting, but you were the only one who didn't laugh."

"Well we are all entitled to our beliefs, sometimes the gods have special ways of speaking to others - it is not my place to contest that," Sheira responded, taking the parchment he offered her into her hands. "What is this?"

She unfolded it, revealing a sketch of a headpiece. "Do you like it?" Rhaegar asked, biting his bottom lip.

"It's very nice - but I'm not understanding your grace," Sheira said, looking closer at the design. it was heavily decorated on its left side, with petals of different flowers sticking out and some spaces between left blank from the black ink.

Rhaegar moved closer to her, Sheira swore she could feel her body buzz and flush with warmth. He stood behind her and pointed, "these," the flowers, "are flowers that grow around the forests of Storms End. I thought they might remind you of your fathers resting place," his finger moved towards the empty slots, "and these are spaces for rubies or emeralds."

Sheira, who knew exactly what the Prince was insulating, turned quickly and gave him a quizzical look. "Forgive me, Rhaegar, I am still not understanding."

"I'm commissioning a headpiece, for you. I assumed since well what happened," Rhaegar instantly regretted his words as Sheira's eyes fell to the floor, "I'm sorry if I have offended you, Sheira, I just-."

"No, no you haven't offended me at all. It's very kind - thank you. I am excited to see it brought to life," Sheira said, smiling stiffly. She looked around the secluded area and walked closer to the pond - wanting desperately to change the subject, "you are good at finding hiding places."

Rhaegar chuckled, standing next to her with his hands behind his back. "Hiding places indeed. It's hard to be alone when you know everyone is looking at you - even when they aren't talking to you."

"Careful, I might change my mind," Sheira joked, unsure of exactly where the small flirtatious quip came from.

"Well, in that case, it's wonderful. I adore being looked at all day every day, and I know you will too."

"Well, nothing is official yet," Sheira reminded him.

"Well, it is my choice. And you haven't done anything to give me reasons to not choose you."

Choose? Sheira didn't say anything, brushing off the arrogant comment.

"Do you swim, your grace?" she asked him, placing the parchment beside her on the floor and kicking off her flat shoes - Sheira sat down and placed her feet in the water, hiking her skirt up so not to get her dress wet.

"In ponds?" Rhaegar laughed, sitting down next to her with his body facing her and his legs outstretched the opposite way. "No, I do not, my lady."

Sheira pursed her lips, "don't call me that."

"Stop calling me your grace then!" Rhaegar said, poking her side.

"Alright fine," she looked down at the water, it was clean enough and there were small fishes swimming around her legs. "I wish we lived in water - isn't it just divine?"

"Lived in water? You are living in a fairytale I think."

Sheira shrugged, "fairytales are nice."

"That they are."

The trees around them rustled as a small breeze passed them, it sent shivers down her spine. "I think I am getting to like your kingdom"

"Well I am glad," Rhaegar, unable to stop himself, moved a long strand of hair that had been covering her face, "there, now I can see you properly."

She felt her cheeks grow hot, knowing they were an embarrassing shade of red now Sheira tried her best to not look at him. "You are very affectionate," her words left her lips before her mind had understood what it had thought. "I do not mean that as an offence."

"It's alright," Sheira could not staring at his light lips, "life is too short to not be, don't you think?" Sheira was unsure of how to respond, so he did for her, he took her hand and placed it on his thigh. "It's very easy, see now I know you are fond of me."

Sheira took her hand back in a flash, her eyes wide. "Your grace!"

Rhaegar let out a hearty laugh, "Sheira! Intimacy and sexual advances are two very different things." He took her hand once more, lifted it up and lay his head on her lap. "You see? We are close, but it is not intended for anything other than closeness."

Sheira could not help but snort, "how is it you make me nervous and laugh at you all at the same time."

"A man of many talents does not reveal his secrets," he tapped his nose. She giggled, her laugh trailing off awkwardly. Rhaegar took the end of her hair and twirled it, seemingly oblivious to her cramped movements. "Sheira?" He propped himself up.

She looked at him, now much more comfortable, "yes?"

If it weren't for her eyes, that had Rhaegar choked - though he tried hard not to show it - he would not have said, "kiss me?"

Sheira chose not to respond this time, allowing her heart, or body, or mind - whichever one was in charge currently - to push herself closer to him. She pulled Rhaegar closer to her with one hand wrapped the back of his neck and placed the smallest of pecks on his lips. She drew away slightly, only for Rhaegar to initiate their second kiss. All Sheira could think of was how close he was to her, closer than anyone else had been to her.

Allowing her body to guide her Sheira pulled her legs from the water and knelt down, holding onto Rhaegar's hand that was gripping her hair. She felt her legs turn wobbly, that did not matter, Rhaegar freed her lips from his for the shortest of moments, his lips bright red and pursed now, and he pulled her onto his lap.

It felt wrong and insane, but they were alone and all they were doing was kissing - it could not be frowned upon to see if two people liked each other. No one knew where they were, and Sheira was sure no one would find them. She felt his hand snake around her waist and pull her closer, Rhaegar like the particular way her chest felt pressed into his, he like the way her back curved and how his hands fit her body as if she was moulded for them.

Perhaps she had gotten carried away, or liked kissing Rhaegar much more than she had thought she would. She never thought she would but either out of curiosity or instinct her hands wandered to the buttons on his trousers - Sheira quickly pulled away when she realised what she had done. She stood up, apologised profusely and ran back to the camp - her shoes still by the pond.

...

hmmm :) - unedited