DRAGON AND WOLF

Allara hugged herself, rubbing palms against her arms to bring warmth, as she stared at the horizon, from the top of the cliff beneath that apple tree. The silver bed of the landscape howled with a chill breeze to soothe her spirit. This was her home. The snow, the wolfswood, the Wintertown — this was where she truly felt belonging. Inhaling the fresh breeze gave hope for her future.

The direwolf took meager steps, trying to gain its strength on its foot, sniffing the snow lazily. The Maester asked Allara to take it for a walk, to help it to regain its strength back. Her direwolf was saved from death but there were huge scars on the places, on its back, where the arrows had struck. If her direwolf started to hunt on its own, then she would leave it to the wild. For now, DarkWing belonged to Allara.

Strong arm snailed across her shoulder, in a warm embrace, and she found herself get alerted, until she found Jaime, stand arm to arm with no space left.

"Have you forgotten your cloak, my lady?" Jaime asked teasingly snaking his way down to her waist. "I can help you get warm." His voice was a coarse whisper near her ears.

Flush of redness tinted her cheeks, and she stiffened her body, when Jaime started to nuzzle into her hair. "Jaime... What is this?" She chided, trying to wriggle out, even though some part of her, wanted to get tricked that way. Allara was more than glad when Jaime gripped hard on her waist, not letting her go.

She glanced all around that vast emptiness, and when she was so sure that only DarkWing to wander in the snow, she relaxed her shoulder, propping her head on him. Could she stretch this moment, forever? With him next to her, in solitude, with the heart filled happiness, staring into emptiness, everything appeared perfect. Jaime was perfect. Well... Not exactly. They both bickered and battled through words and glances, cursing and staring for every passing moment but he was still perfect, in her eyes.

"This is your last day, here, and you made me wait for almost an hour, now." She sighed tracing his calloused fingers that was set upon her waist. A week it had been, since they last came from the woods, picking DarkWing from the cold. Jaime's wrist had healed, and he was all set to go. She didn't feel positive about it. How she wished the wound was a little deeper, letting him stay for some more time? But all sweet things come to an end. Don't they? When her fingers rested on his healing scar, he forcefully caught her fingers to entwine with it. "We must leave, Jaime, before someone notices our absence in the castle." She warned.

"No... Not today. You said so, yourself. Today is my last day with you and I will not let you go." Jaime replied in a stubborn voice. He had become bold in that last one week, teasing and taunting her with feather light touches at her waist, shoulder and cheeks, making her get panicked. It was painful to be around him. Allara turned to face him. He smiled with a devious darkness dancing in his emerald eyes.

"You are incorrigible..." She shook her head, unable to bear him.

In response, he simply let out a mild laugh. "But... Seriously, I don't really know when we shall meet again. I feel something so strange inside my heart." Jaime's voice flattened as he replied. "I just... I don't know what I feel, Allara, but I am sure, leaving you, is hurting me. This will be goodbye. Isn't it?" He asked achingly, swallowing his worry, with eyes full of sadness.

"Don't be a child, Jaime. This is not a goodbye." She chided, slapping his arm, for creating a disturbance in her mind.

"Let us face the truth. One day, you will marry a beastly northern lord, and me... probably a Lannister Bannerman's daughter. And this whole fucking north, is miles and miles away." He sighed removing his hand away from her, repulsed for being close to her, as though she became untouchable. "I am so sorry. I should have not touched you, that way." He took a few steps back.

"Jaime... Tell me, you are not serious." She asked, managing to put on a smile, even when her head was exploding in anger. "Don't you really know, why your father sent you here?" She questioned taking a few steps forward, towards him.

"It has something to do with, some message, written to your father. About... I don't know. It was a sealed missive."

"Good Gods..." Now it was her time to look down upon him. "Are you this naïve? Didn't you even guess what was written inside that missive?"

He became alert and kept his furrowed brows knitted, trying to appear smart. "My father is the hand of the King and there could be thousands of details written inside. Do you think I have the privileges to know all of that?" He retorted, and she chuckled.

"So... All these days, you assumed, your father sent you, Jaime Lannister, his heir, to Winterfell, for delivering, new orders." It was too amusing to pull his leg. Suddenly realizing everything, he bit his cheeks and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I assume then it must be because he wanted me to get to know you. So, we are..." He asked in a doubtful tone.

"At least, you are not a simpleminded boy. Surely, you have got all that by yourself, after... how many days? Oh... Three weeks." His face was getting red in embarrassment and suddenly he was panting and moving like a restless hound. "How come you didn't even guess, when my brothers were teasing you. Or when they allow you to come and spend some time with me?" She asked anxiously and he let out a smile.

"I don't know, Aly. You know me. I am not a person of observance. I just thought, all your brothers are so coolheaded." He answered and sat on the snow below, resting his head on the tree trunk. Allara didn't doubt that. He was not someone to observe things around him. Jaime raised his sword even before opening his mouth to speak. Suddenly, he yanked her wrist from below, making her to fall across his lap.

She gathered herself, trying to compose her clumsiness, when he laughed. "So, I wasted the last three weeks. Had I known this before, I would have..." He trailed lifting her waist to adjust her on his lap, all the while staring at her lips. "I would have done a lot of things differently."

"Sorry, to break the news to you. We haven't even got betrothed and no... we are not going to do anything."

Allara felt a need to escape from being locked in his grasp. Her father hadn't mentioned anything about betrothal and the Maester informed her that Lord Rickard Stark was writing a response about the dowry. Anything could happen. Even betrothals get broken, and she was not ready to risk her name. It was a dangerous game to play, when she was the least liked for her father.

"But we will be soon. Right?" He asked eagerly.

"It depends on our fathers, Jaime. If your father agrees with the arrangement of the dowry, then-"

"I will make sure my father agrees." He promised with a charming smile. "There are plenty of gold mines in the Rock and we Lannisters, are the richest house, in the Seven Kingdoms, right now. Even the Targaryens are indebted, Allara." He proudly answered, while pulling her close to his chest. But she felt repulsed. Somehow, she hated that answer, and the arrogance laced in it.

"You are a fool to think that your father will accept a bride who comes with no wealth." She spat back and pulled herself on her feet.

"Why do you spoil the mood?" His tone also had a gruffy edge to it. "Don't you want me, as I do?"

He rose to face her, with a brow raised up curiously waiting for her answer and she couldn't tell the truth. "We both serve our houses. There is no place for 'want' in it." She repeated what she had been taught, for all the years.

"I asked you a simple question. Answer me. Do you want me?"

Her fingers dug into the flesh of her palm, in anxiety thinking about her want. Jaime's fingers traced her jaw and lifted her chin to the level with his eyes. He was what all women dreamed about. Gallant, young, brave, charming — everything a lady could ask for, eventhough he had his rashness and bruteness which she came to like slowly. She sighed swiping his fingers away from, with a smile. "What happiness do you get in putting me in, such an uncomfortable situation?" He was reluctant to let go and so she answered. "Yes, Jaime. I want you, as much as you do."

"Oh, no..." He beamed. "You don't know how much I want you..." That smile was enough to get through his teasing. "I will let my father know that, you are the one I wish to marry. If he wants his heir to be married, then he will accept what your father proposes." And with that reply he pushed her flush against his body, which ignited something inside of her. A longing to be touched by him soon burned as fire. And finally, he placed a long soft kiss on her forehead.

"Once I become a knight, I'll speak with my father and come here to Winterfell, to taste that plump lips of yours and make you my bride." He whispered, and she closed her eyes in sheer shyness. His left arm traced her shoulder reaching till the tip of her fingers, and he lifted it to his lips. The intimacy was heart throbbing to bear, and she was having no wish to resist him. If he even kissed her then, she wouldn't hesitate like how she did in the woods. Oh... How she wanted to kiss him. He closed each finger, till he reached the ring finger and slid a golden ring onto it, that was carved with the face of a lion. "Nothing befits your beauty, Allara. Even this ring... but this is all I got. When you come to the Rock, I will worship you in gold."

She was so high on being too close to him with his scent. Everything about him was too perfect to spoil it by saying how she didn't care about his gold. It would only end up in argument and she wanted to give him a proper sendoff. It might be years before they meet. She wanted to treasure this moment. Although, she was a coward to give a kiss; she hugged him, close till she felt his heart beats through her chest and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I will wait for your letter. Don't forget me, Jaime." She whispered, earning a chuckle in response as he wrapped her tight.

Eight moons later...

The water simmered when he immersed to soak himself in those thick water near the volcano of Dragonmont. The scalding hot water was welcoming him with open hands. The Dragonstone gave him more comfort as a home, that Kings Landing, could never hope for. That city reeked of shit and piss, rotten and filthy, filled with the likeness of men like his father. Especially his father.

What have I done to deserve him? Why would the Gods take his whole family, in fire leaving the dirt behind?

'Because there are no Gods, Rhaegar,' his conscience replied.

Yet, there were demons upraising both in the North and the South. If what he heard from Grand Uncle Maester Aemon was true, how could the Seven Kingdoms be saved with his father as the King? He swam in that hot lake, till his muscles relaxed and the bruises he bore from Ser Arthur's steel begun to feel soothed. For a moment, his heart ached for not having bruised by his wife, in a marriage bed and rather marked by steel. It had been almost six moons, since he wed the Princess.

Rhaegar should feel more than happy for marrying the Princess, Elia Martell, a beautiful woman, kind and witty. But soon he understood that they both were standing at the odd ends of the world. Could that he blame her? She was normal, and he was... more than abnormal. He had come to accept the truth of it. Everything about his life was of pain. He ate his whole family when he was born, burning all the great men in fire. She hadn't seen death until recently when her mother passed away.

How cruel am I to expect one to experience death and grief in their life to understand him?

No... That was not what he wanted... He wanted Elia to be his Rhaenys. To ride with him, to tease him, to be playful and impulsive. Rhaegar would have bought the finest Dornish steed for her, if she was ready to go for a ride with him. He would have built the grandiose ship, to cross the narrow sea, and would have taken her to Lys, Pentos, Qohor, if she was willing to sail with him.

His wishes were wide as sky-bed to fly with his Rhaenys, but his lady-wife chose the company of the feather-bed to rest. He wished to show her the North, the Wall, and get the blessings from his Grand Uncle. He wished to show her the Reach, their peaches to fill the stomach and flowers to decorate her hair. He wished so many things to build a life with her, but they barely held a conversation.

I should be content. She is not hungry for power, like Cersei Lannister. She doesn't have the thirst to control me. What more can I expect in a marriage, arranged for duty?

He leaned on the rocks next to him and absorbed the heat passing through his skin. It tingled his muscles.

Fire... He craved for fire. He craved for passion in bed. He craved for attention. He craved for intimacy. He craved for love.

It had been months since they last shared a bed. If to be exact, they consummated their marriage, only twice, yet somehow he managed to give bruises to her delicate skin. He didn't intend to. He was gentle and caring, but the tears that rolled down her cheeks and the never ending sobs, were haunting his sleep even now. Sometimes, Rhaegar wondered if he was turning out to be like his mad father, for making his sweet wife cry in their marriage bed.

When the Maester declared she was carrying his child, Rhaegar felt more than relieved for not troubling her in bed, in the name of producing an heir. But that lasted only for a while, until she started shivering every day, by vomiting and shaking, choosing to sleep and stay abed. Was a child worth all this pain?

Rhaegar painfully held his erect cock in his hand and stroke its length to forget everything that revolved around his life. The water was hot to arouse him and his hand was enough to satisfy himself. He closed his eyes to see a dragon soar through the sky. He believed the Targaryen madness to be true to an extent, for his mood swung to ecstasy whenever he dreamed of a dragon dancing.

The black dragon had scales dark as sin, same as Balerion the dread's, King Aegon's mount. But his dragon was not alone this time. He was soaring next to a platinum white she-dragon, with golden scales. Rhaegar increased his hand's speed on his cock, indulging in the desperate pleasure of seeing his dragon get a mate in sky. In what seemed to be a race, the dragons tore the air, skipping the clouds, roaring and spitting fire passionately, before his black dread dug its claws on the pale skin of its mate, overpowering the platinum-gold dragon's strength, before claiming her as his mate, by pushing her to the ground.

Rhaegar connected to his dragon as one, in what seemed to be an aggressive act of love, more than he ever felt belonged in this world, more than he ever felt satisfied in his marriage-bed. When his dragon reached its climax, Rhaegar was groaning so loud to wake the dead dragons from their death from those dark stones, and spilled his seeds into the streaming hot water. His dragon parted its claws, in exhaustion and the she-dragon, turned with its molten eyes blinking in fear.

Rhaegar wanted to reach for the she-dragon and comfort her. His black dragon moved closer till its nose nuzzled the platinum's head to comfort, imitating his feeling. When his dragon parted, the she-dragon's platinum pale head, turned dark as night. When he blinked, the next moment, he was stunned to see a wolf's head in its stead, with mismatched eyes that stared ghastly into his soul. The wolf's face was marked horrendously by wound lines, but there was a beauty in that beast.

A sudden splash in water snapped him out of his dream and Rhaegar slipped on the rock beneath.

"Fuck..." He muttered getting out of that hot water and dressed himself to come out to the cave entrance.

"Even the prettiest Lyseni whore, that I last fucked, didn't make me excited like you had, my Prince." Arthur taunted him with a devious smile. Had Rhaegar knew his friend would arrive soon, he would have preferred to not indulge in himself.

"It must be because you didn't pay your whore well, Arthur." Rhaegar tried to hide his blush of reticence when he took his black steed's reign. "Did you get what I asked you?"

"See for yourself."

Rhaegar pulled open the ties of the cover, that held all those gowns made of silvery satin with sleeves that almost touched the floor. "Elia doesn't seem to wear these type of gowns. Will she really like it?" Rhaegar often found the Princess wear bright colours that exposed more skin. She never wore something with this long sleeves.

Arthur chuckled. "What do I know of a lady's taste in gowns? You asked me to collect, and so I did."

Rhaegar sighed shaking his head. "I hope your sister has a good taste."

"My sister?"

"Yes... I took Ashara to the town, to help me choose something of Princess Elia's liking." Rhaegar replied wondering how easy it was to address even Ashara without title but not his wife. Arthur's sister had become one of Elia's companions from Dorne and she did everything to annoy her brother, throwing tantrums and mischievousness of all sorts. Even Rhaegar was exhausted to find the siblings bicker and banter at each other.

"I am sorry, Rhaegar. If it was one of her silly games... then I will pay-"

"Arthur," Rhaegar placed his hand on his friend's arms. "Don't insult me. You are not just a Kingsguard to me, Arthur. You are my friend and the brother that I never had." With that, unwilling to accept Arthur's glance at him that was showering new found fondness, Rhaegar rode his horse. "Moreover, Ashara is my sister as she is yours. Now, get on your horse. My squires will be waiting for my arrival."

Upon reaching the castle, Richard Lonmouth rushed to guide Rhaegar's warhorse towards the stable whereas Myles Mooton, walked along with Rhaegar towards the castle.

"Do you have any important information from the Riverlands?" Rhaegar questioned. Mooton was the house sworn to the Tullys, and he arrived just this morning. Ever since Rhaegar's wedding was over, he had been actively gathering information about the lords who would choose to support his claim to the throne, by using everyone he trusted.

Rhaegar could feel the Kings words burning his chest, when his father japed saying, 'I wish the King's rights to the first night was never revoked. Who wouldn't want a dornish woman in bed?'

Rhaegar desired to strangle his father's neck, accepting the curse of Kinslayer with no remorse, that day. Had his Queen mother never interfered, he would have gladly done everything to put an end to that monster.

"Lord Tully has promised his daughter's hand to Lord Stark's heir, Brandon Stark." Myles answered scratching his beard.

"With the Starks?" Rhaegar pondered. "When was the last time, the Starks married outside of their territory?"

"I am not an expert in their territory, your Grace. Lord Tully is a fool to give his daughter to a northern savage. The northerners are misfit to be considered even as a part of Westeros. They don't even have knights." Myles spat frowning in displeasure.

Rhaegar gave a knock on his squire's head and stared at him in disbelief. "Being a knight is not enough to be great. You haven't even earned one." He cursed. "Just because their customs are different, it doesn't make them savages."

Richard laughed from behind, seeing his friend getting punished.

"You have the truth to it, Rhaegar. Your cousin, Lord Robert, didn't stop ranting about his friend Eddard Stark, in his cups with pride and joy, when I went with my sire to attend his father's and mother's funeral. Lord Robert even declared that Stark boy as his brother, forgetting his own blood, Lord Stannis, who sat next to him on the table." Richard said.

Rhaegar pushed open the wooden door of his solar and reached to the table which was filled with books. "How did my cousin meet Eddard Stark in the first place? Wasn't he getting fostered in the Vale?"

"It is where they both met. The Stark boy was also sent for getting fostered by Lord Arryn. I see a possible marriage getting arranged between the Stark and Baratheon."

"Robert doesn't have any sisters." Rhaegar cited picking up the largest book, containing the information of all great lords of Westeros and their lineage.

"Renly could fill that void." Myles snorted, but was rewarded by Arthur's hand to his head.

"Ned Stark has two sisters, I heard." Richard replied, jumping on the chair that was laid before Rhaegar. "Robert will marry one of them."

Rhaegar shifted through all the pages, tracing along the marriages that had happened over the years. It was a very boring thing to read, but too important to ignore. "So... If I am right, the Tullys, the Starks, the Arryns and the Baratheons have packed together through marriage and friendship."

"Lords and their desires have no end, my Prince. Lord Stark must have got some high ambitions." Richard answered dryly.

Rhaegar stared at Arthur with curiosity dangling in his vision, when something appeared so strange to him. He had been communicating with Maester Aemon for the past seven years, to learn much and more about the northerners, the wildlings and the dangerous things beyond the wall.

"Is there something of concern, Rhaegar?" Arthur questioned.

"The Starks never married outside, other than the one time, when Aegon the Dragon sealed a marriage between House Stark and House Arryn. This all seems too strange to be a coincidence." Rhaegar's mind wandered to the possibilities of something dangerous brewing in the North. With his father in the throne, he wouldn't put it past him. "What are the possibilities for all those lords to choose the Mad King's son, as their next King?" Rhaegar addressed himself to be the Mad King's son, in hesitation, knowing the position he was in, currently.

Arthur stilled. "That will be treason. You are the rightful heir."

"What we are all doing here is no less than treason, Arthur. Overthrowing my father because he is not the right person the realm needs is no less than what they might be thinking about me."

"The rest of the realm stands behind you, my Prince." Arthur declared.

"I am not entirely sure about it. We need to be clear about the rest of the realm before we take our chances." Rhaegar answered but his attention was diverted when the door screeched open.

Lady Ashara stood by the door, with a wide smile. "May I come in, my Prince?" She curtsied in excitement.

"No... You may not. What have I said about knocking before entering? You should not disturb anyone in this castle." Arthur chided his sister. But Rhaegar observed his squires' opened jaws, looking at the pretty girl, with purple eyes. He cleared his throat to warn them, unwilling to let them indulge in fantasies of his friend's sister. They both diverted their attention and planted their gazes somewhere to the ceiling as he walked towards the door.

"Let it go, Arthur." Rhaegar walked past his friend, picking those long gowns in hand. Ashara's eyes went wide in curiosity and he handed those silks to her, as they both took a walk to Elia's chamber, whilst his head was filled with worries.

"You seem so lost, my Prince. Is it because of what those dumb squires of yours, spoke about?" Ashara commented with a smile. Arthur's sister had this strange quirkiness about her that made Arthur himself, lose patience at times. But Rhaegar felt quite relaxed in her company.

"They really can't make me get anger. But you are right, they aren't the brightest lads." Rhaegar turned to her side. "You are from Dorne, the southern most Kingdom. Tell me what do you think about the North?"

"Snow..." Ashara responded jumping on her feet. "They say it snows even during summer, in the North. Sometimes, in Dorne, when it rains, which occurs rarely, I close my eyes and imagine it as snow. They even tell that the Starks live in snow castle, and that they are the kin to the monsters and grumkins, from beyond the Wall."

Rhaegar sighed raising his brow and shook his head. "Strange tales, strange place and strange people. Aren't they?"

"I like strange things." She answered peeling out the dress cover, as they entered Elia's chamber. "Oh... The seamstress has managed to stich it all in perfection." Ashara exclaimed while holding the dress in front of her own body. She shrieked in excitement and ran to his wife, who was lying on her back, pressed against layers of pillows for support. "Princess Elia... Look at these, silks. They are splendid with pearls. Aren't they?"

Elia gave a sweet smile and ran her fingers along the length of the long gown. "They are fine... You can wear it, Ashara. Pearls and satin doesn't suit my skin."

Rhaegar felt his heart sink so low, for not asking her what she would have preferred to wear. "I am sorry, my lady. I had no knowledge of it." He apologized pulling the chair next to her, to sit beside. In response, she gave a weary tired smile.

"I am in no state to decorate myself with fine dresses, my Prince. I must be the one to apologize." Rhaegar's lip curved seeing her welcoming-smile. She was always cheerful, and laughed a lot, if she was surrounded by her family and friends. For the first time, he understood, he was not the right person for her. She deserved a lord who could jape aloud to make her laugh till her stomach hurt. But the destiny and duty desired themselves to be together.

"What do you like, Elia? Tell me. I will bring anything that you desire. You are carrying my child." He corrected. "Our child. And I want you to be happy."

She gathered herself to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled his hand to her swelling belly. He felt hesitant to touch her. Somehow, it didn't feel right to touch her body, even though he was her husband. "Do you feel his kicks? He is so strong, my Prince."

Rhaegar didn't even understand the state of bliss, when he felt his child's leg, pressing on her body. A sense of pride and happiness, swarmed in his head when those tiny paws traced her stomach. "She will be my Rhaenys." He answered realizing how active his child was inside her womb. She would be everything he wanted in Elia and all his worries would wear out. Their marriage might one day, become something greater than what it was now.

"No..." Elia answered in a painful tone and Rhaegar removed his hand to see her cry while tears rolled down her cheek. Suddenly, she pulled herself on her feet and ran to the privy, retching out everything from her guts. Her eyes were red and swollen and a pang of guilt punished his own stomach, seeing his wife suffer. When he helped her sit on a cushioned chair, Elia wept. "I want this child to be a boy, my Prince. That way I can be sure of giving you an heir."

"I will be more than happy if it is a girl, Elia. Please don't worry for this." He comforted, but she wept, till he consoled her by holding her shoulder.

"Will you let me go to Dorne and meet my family, before I deliver the child?" She sobbed holding her stomach.

"The travel might exhaust you, Princess. Why don't I send a missive to your family in Dorne, so they can come visit us here in DragonStone?"

"Doran will not be able to come. He can't ride." She worried wiping her eyes. "And I want to see him and Oberyn, before I deliver this child. If I die-"

Rhaegar wasn't prepared to even hear those words from her. "Hush now... The Maester said you and the baby are fine and perfectly alright. And why will you even think about death?"

"Its fine, my Prince. I have never been this weak before, in my life and I am not sure if I will be able to survive this. That's why I want my child to be a boy. So, he will become your heir." She said in an exhausting tone, that made him feel like a monster for making her to endure this. This was not what she or he deserved. How could he comfort a woman, who thought about death every day, carrying his child?

"We shall go to Dorne. I will also accompany you. Is that fine?"

She stared at him blinking her eyes to push the remaining tear out of her eyes. When she was shifting in her seat, he helped her reach the bed, and gently guided her to lie down. He sat there staring at her, with no words to speak. They both remained dull and dead, and finally when he tried to exit her chamber, she pulled his wrist. "Will you sing a song for me?"

A song was always easy, even easier than speaking with his dear wife. He nodded his head and sat by the harp, that Ashara brought in and sang a song, — the Jenny of Oldstones. Finally, when he desired for the long day to be over and when Elia slept, Ashara pried the harp away and took him out of his wife's chambers.

"Please don't be upset with the Princess. She is going through a lot due to this babe in her stomach."

"Ashara... Why would I be upset on her? I just wish I could change any of this. I feel insufficient in her life and more like a cruel beast to put her through all of this." Rhaegar replied wondering why there was nothing to give peace to his mind.

"No... You are not the beast, my Prince." Ashara assured patting his arm and taking him down the hallway. "Do you know, House Dayne has no beast in the sigil. Only stars that falls down." She spoke about all the houses and their sigils while Rhaegar focused on becoming a father soon in a few moon's turn and worried if really Elia's life would end. "The dragons for Targaryens, the lions for Lannisters, the wolves for the Starks, the bears for the Mormonts."

"What did you tell about wolves?" He questioned pausing on his tracks.

"Oh... The Starks have direwolf for their sigil."

Rhaegar left her in between, filling his head only with the memories of the dream he had while taking the bath. That way it was easy for him to shift from reality of possibly losing his wife, even before living a life with her. He was born killing many great men, and what assurance was there that he wouldn't kill his gentle Elia or even worse, his Rhaenys. He entered the library, searching through the books to read about the Starks, trying to make sense out of the dream he had.

I am going to keep an open mind, to get berated for that dragon sex scene. It is fine if you all are going to spit fire because it was needed to portray Rhaegar's complexity and plot. Please pour your opinions.

Hercules : Thanks for your extensive comment. It makes me understand how readers perceive my characters and story. Allara, of course is normal in skills. That's why I didn't make her get super power like Jaime or Lyanna. And I intended to make her appear sexy with a ponytail. But the length is perspective to each person. And yeah, Jaime and Allara are warming up. Jaime is getting around and thanks for quoting my lines. Its very heart-warming to read what readers enjoyed. Classic Tywin. Haha

Guest : Did I betray Jaime's character?

Swiggs : Yay... The direwolf stays alive, and she serves a purpose in this story. You would have already guessed in this chapter.

Janae.K : Thanks a lot for reading my story. Your comment means a lot to me. It shows the window of letting me know how the characters are perceived. I enjoyed writing Jaime, as he is very complex. Yes... and yes... Women always fawned over him and he is so confused of getting dejected. He will evolve though, throughout the journey and I am not going to follow GRRM's footsteps in his evolution. You will see. You are right with Lyanna. She has double mind and edged towards selfishness. Although, I didn't want to portray Allara getting pushed around, she is a sucker for family and Lya manipulated. And yeah, the only reason they both connected is because their families are messy. Let me know about this chapter.