Chapter 8: The Queen of Love and Beauty

Today was the last day of the tourney and tomorrow, they all will leave this place, and to be honest she couldn't wait. Lyanna just left her brother with the Prince of Dorne Elia Martell, heading to her chambers to get ready for the tourney. She doesn't know why the woman is visiting her brother, sitting next to his bed, keeping him company, reading, and especially as she heard them, plenty of times laughing, despite her brother always groaning.

Lyanna was aware of the reason why the princess was here, but still, she couldn't understand her behavior towards Brandon and why she spends time with Brandon and not with the Prince since he is her prey. Was it a sort of gratitude for what he did in the Godswood? Or was it because she felt guilty for what happened?

She felt a fit of certain jealousy towards the Princess of Dorne, knowing the reason why she was here. Why all the other high-born ladies beside her were here. Princess Elia was a fair maiden, with the blood of the dragon flowing through her veins. A proper lady and definitely a good choice as future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, compared to her who was young and wild. Blood of the wolf.

Suddenly she was pulled into a corner and pinned against a wall with soft lips starting to kiss her, as she had closed eyes. Lyanna knew who it was, and allowed it for a moment, enjoying it before regaining her sense, pushing him away, raising her voice, "Did you took me for a fool?!"

"Lyanna-"

"Do not take me as a weak broad mare that you can claim with your royal worm!" she screamed, pushing away when he tried to touch her. "Go find your whores elsewhere and leave me alone!" With those last words. Lyanna was mad at him, and she didn't know what wasn't happening to her right now. This sudden feeling towards a man she never felt before. But to not feel it, to not get hurt, she needs to stay away from him.

"And the dragons came. Not three, as Prince Garin had faced at Volon Therys, but three hundred or more, if the tales that have come down to us can be believed. Against their fires, the Rhoynar could not stand. Tens of thousands burned whilst others rushed into the river, hoping that the embrace of Mother Rhoyne would offer them protection against dragonflame only to drown in their mother's embrace," Elia finished, saying the last part with a certain sadness, but before she could continue, she hears the Wild wolf say, "May I ask you one question, Princess?" And she looked up from the book, feeling his grey steel eyes penetrate hers as if he was trying to look deep in her heart. "Why are you really keeping me company as I'm recovering? I'm sure there are plenty of things better to do in her than stay next to the bed of a fool northern."

"Are you tired of my presence, my lord?" she asked, jokingly, thought in truth she was very serious and worried. She didn't want for him to send her away.

"No, I'm not. But we both know the true reason why you are at Harrhenal, attending this tourney," he said, gone were the old joking ways of speaking. Now there was only seriousness and coldness.

Elia, sighed, looking down, and quietly replied, "Yes. The reason why I'm here is because I need to seduce the Prince so that he marries me."

"Then why aren't you doing that? You Dornish are famous for being very good at that."

She was taken back by his words and even felt offended so much that she replied with an angry, raised voice, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know very well," he said, clammily with furrowed eyes, clearly trying to keep at bay the wild wolf that was inside him.

Elia instead gives him a defying look, without replying, and crossing her arms in front of her chest as she leaned against the back seat, but even that seems to not make the wolf take a step forward.

"That look doesn't work with me, princess. But to answer your question, words travel fast and these walls, singing about of the Dornish princess who is seducing the dragon prince in the hallways of the cursed castle," he said, almost like he was jealous about. She wanted to laugh at the hypocrisy of the wild wolf but returning her attention to the man she replied, "They also sing about how a wild is wondering around these lands claiming the virtue of the maidens," and trying to be as serious as possible, as the northern wolf tried to do the same. But a few seconds later, he burst into laughs, and Elia, despite trying her best to keep a serious expression and being angry with him for what he said and implied, she burst into laughs too.

Glancing outside, she remembered that she needs to get ready for the tourney, so getting up and clearing her throat, Elia said, "I think that has come the moment for me to take my leave. But she feels him grab her hand and she glanced at the contact for a moment, before looking him in the grey steel eyes. Swallowing, Elia said, "lord Brandon...The tourney..." but she couldn't finish as he dragged her down, making her yelp. Elia braced herself on either side of his head, to not fall on him, and with his face, a few inches from hers, her heart racing and her breath increasing. Her eyes moving between his lips and his eyes calling to all her strength to make her desist from kissing her because she knew that she won't be able to stop if they start.

"I need to go," Elia whispered, feeling him place his hand on the back of her head. She fought against it for a moment, but in the end, she gives it up, bending down and giving the start to a heated kiss. She could hear him groan as he was returning the kiss but didn't care. The wolf wanted to dance under the sun? Let him endure the pain. With one hand resting on his jaw, Elia moved the other one down south towards where she could feel his hard cock. However, right before she could grab it, they got interrupted by a clearing troth, making them break apart and her eyes widened at seeing who it was.

They were laying under the heart tree of the Godswood, near the small stream that was there. Ashara was resting her head on his chest, twisting the strings of his tunic with her fingers. He loved these moments, so intimate and peaceful, holding a woman in his arms. The first woman that wasn't his sister and that they weren't children.

"Don't you find them a bit gruesome, Ned?" she asked, and he opened his eyes, being greeted by the terrible visage full of hatred, with a twisted mouth and flaring eyes of the Weirwood tree.

Glancing down at her, Ned released a sigh and smiling, said, "When I was a child, I was scared of them too, but my father always told me that it's the way how the Old Gods are looking at us. Sometimes, when I was in the Vale, I missed them. I was missing the moments of the peacefulness that I felt under the heart tree when I was in Winterfell. But of course, there were other things to distract me there."

"Like women and feast and hunts and tourneys?" she purred teasingly, running her hands up and down his chest, that despite covered by the clothes, he could still feel her soft skin on his.

"I never was good with women hunting or tourneys. And I wasn't a fan of feast," Ned replied, chuckling, before adding with sadness, "It was Robert who was good. He lived for that."

"How do you feel about what happened?"

"I don't know," he replied, sighing, "I knew Robert since I was eight. He was like a brother to me. But-" he stopped, turning to look at the stream to gather his thoughts and be more clear on them.

"Ned?"

"When Lyanna came to visit the Vale with my father two years ago, Robert fell for her immediately, praising her beauty. At that moment, it came to me, that if Robert and Lyanna got married, we would have been truly brothers before the eyes of the gods. So, I brought the proposal to my father once I got back to Winterfell. But now I see what a fool I was in thinking that Robert Baratheon was a good man for my sister," replied Ned, adding the last part with more angriness and lifting up from the ground. "What kind of brother does that?!"

"Don't blame yourself for the actions of such a man," Ashara said, and Ned felt her place the head on his shoulder, before pulling him back down. "Let's forget about him now and think about us," she added, climbing on him and bending down to kiss him, he knew what she wanted as she traveled her hands down towards his breeches, but he wasn't ready for that. Not yet. Pulling her hands away from there, Ned said, "Not yet."

She rose a few inches up, looking him in the eyes for a moment, before nodding and bending down to kiss him again, as he placed his hand on her ribcage.

The Widow's Tower. This is how the place where he was residing during the days of this tourney got called. And it was the tower facing Kingspyre Tower, where Haren the Black and his heirs got burned by the Black Terror. Gods, what a fascination it must have been this mighty castle burned by the fire of House Targaryen.

That is what he will do once that everything will be ready. Once he will divide his enemies and corned them. Once they feel so safe that they won't even know from where it comes. And now he was overlooking the map of Westeros, marking the house that will be on his side when fire will be light in Westeros. Only of two Kingdoms, he was sure of. The Reach and the Crownlands. But he wasn't a fool. He knows the stupid Tyrell will only help him if it benefits them, and when he will move war to the Hightowers they will jump on the moment to destroy some of their biggest and strongest rivals.

"The time to act is imminent. The eagle and the wolf are weaving their webs for the rebellion. The Sun and the Troute are drawn by power," his only friend that can be trusted said. "Remember, you must tie Ice and Fire in one to bring back the ancient glory of House Targaryen."

"She will never agree if the Old Wolf is dead," the king replied, looking at the northern kingdom.

"She will once they are exposed. They betrayed the Old Gods. I am their will and their messenger," his friend replied. "The She-wolf had already fallen for the Dragon, but she only isn't aware of the destiny that awaits you."

In that moment he heard voices outside and a knock at the door. When it was opened by Ser Gerold, Aerys saw his wife enter, with a serious expression, wearing a dress black and red embroidered with gold and the three headed dragon on her belly. Over it, she was wearing a light grey cloak, gifted her by Lord Stark as a symbol of his loyalty to the crown. That fool. He thinks that with false gifts and little words are enough to show loyalty.

"What is it?"

"It's time to go to the tourney. Have you forgotten that today is the last day of the tourney?" she said, stopping a few steps away from him, with her fingers resting on the table, but Aerys, taking the goblet of wine in hand, moved towards the great opening of the tower that was serving as a window, and taking a sip as he leaned against the wall, mumbled, "I was a fool."

"A fool? Regarding what, your grace?"

"Her," he said, not wanting to pronounce her name, and glancing at his wife, who in the meantime field herself a goblet of wine too. He observed her for a moment not knowing what to say. She was indeed a very beautiful woman his sister. A sight to behold by every man who lies eyes on her, and he knew he behaved badly with her, blaming her for something that wasn't her fault, but now was too late to dwell over the past, and especially say the words.

"Your grace?" came her voice, snapping him out from his thoughts.

"Joanna Lannister. She was a bitch, worse than her husband, whose true interest was the crown and the power," he replied, looking away, as the revelations were flowing through his mind as the first time. He was truly grateful to his old friend for opening his eyes to the lies that clouds these Kingdoms who were under the heels of the Citadel. Perhaps it was the only good thing regarding that damned imprisonment at Duskendale.

"There is no reason to dwell on the past, brother. What is done is done. She is dead now," his wife replied, approaching the window too. Looking outside, she said, "If we look behind, we are lost, brother."

"Yes. Indeed, we are. But we need to look behind to not make the same mistakes that led to our downfall," he replied, glancing at her and taking another sip. "One of the nights that I sleep in her I dreamed of a girl as fair as the moon, with purple eyes, and silver-golden hairs. She had the royal bearing of a true queen. And beside her, a tall boy with the dark curls and the mark of a wolf and a dragon was standing."

"A witch-"

"Don't," he warned her not to start with that, drinking all the content of the goblet, before moving away. A witch made them like this. Miserable. He wanted to do nothing with the witches.

Rhaegar was in his tent, getting ready for the last day of the tourney that will end with the joust followed by a feast for the Queen of Love and Beauty, as his squire Myles Mooton was helping him with the armour.

His body may have been here, but his mind was elsewhere. His mind was still stopped at a few hours before, in the hallway with the She-wolf of Winterfell. He was so confused by her behavior right now. One moment she was enjoying the kiss, moaning almost loudly, and the next moment she burst into anger pushing him and screaming at him as if he has done something wrong or disrespected her.

"My lady," he hears Myles say, and looking towards the entrance, Rhaegar saw Cersei Lannister standing there, with hands intertwined, and a smile on her face. Her long golden locks were left freely like a cascade while some straights were tied behind, braided in a small braid.

While on her, she was wearing a silk red dress, embroidered with golden lines. On her belly instead, there was proudly embroidered the golden lion of House Lannister.

"Lady Cersei," greeted her Rhaegar, with a bow.

"Prince Rhaegar," she made a reverence, smiling, before looking back at him with emerald eyes full of lust he already knew how she was imagining him right now, he wasn't a fool. And she for sure would be the perfect Queen for the Seven Kingdoms. But not for him. No, his perfect queen is wild as the wolf in the woods, and with a spirit that goes beyond the normal bearing, caring for those who she loves the most and ready to protect them from the danger with her bare claws and especially defend those who were weak, unlike the Lannister girl, who cared only for one thing. Swallowing, he asked, "How may I help you, my lady?"

"Can we have some privacy, squire," she said, looking at Mooton, who turned at him, and Rhaegar, nodding, said, "Fetch me the horse."

"Yes, my prince," Myles replied, bowing and leaving the tent.

Crossing his arms, Rhaegar turned his attention to the Lannister girl, waiting to hear what she wanted, who in response, started to round him, with the hand on his armour.

"A few moments ago, my father, Lord Tywin came to me with great news," she started and Rhaegar rolled his eyes at that, wanting to say something rude to make her go, but bits his tongue, to desist. "He informed me that the king agreed to our union and that the wedding will occur in a moon from now, in the capital in the Sept of Baelor, under the eyes of the Gods and of the whole Seven Kingdoms."

Rhaegar didn't reply, since there was nothing he could say. He knew that this moment was going to come since the moment he realized what the crown Prince's duty are.

"I can't wait for that moment to come," she eagerly said, grabbing the sides of his armour, placing her head on the hard steel, leaving him without words. "I want you to wear this," my prince, she said, showing him a piece of cloth like the one she was wearing. Rising on the tiptoes, with lips a few inches from his, she added whispering, "I kept it warm for you. It will bring you great fortune during the tourney and will show everyone that we belong together."

"My lady-" she placed a finger on his lips to stop him, before leaving the tent, and Rhaegar, sighing, pulled on the mail coif, and took the dragon helmet, getting out, where Myles and Oswell were waiting for him.

"By all Gods, Oswell. The women are such beautiful creatures, but at the same time, so complicated," Rhaegar replied, climbing on the horse, and receiving a chuckle from the Bat.

Lyanna was fiddling with the sleeves of her skirt, as they were waiting for the first challengers to enter the field. Beside her, the lord of Winterfell, her father was sitting with a serious expression, shaking his leg impatiently. He was still angry because of what happened between Brandon and the Princess of Dorne in the chambers, and he had scolded him pretty badly. On one hand, she feels happy for Brandon's fate since he did the same to her when he saw her with Prince Rhaegar, but on the other hand, she feels sorry for the Princess who seemed still embarrassed and avoiding to look at them.

Her little brother Ben, on the other hand, was waiting with impatience too, but not because of the same see the best knights clash in this last day, knowing that tomorrow, they will all leave for the North; while Ned seems to had his mind in a whole different place since the only thing he was looking at was the Dornish lady, sister of the Sword of the Morning and lady-in-waiting of the Princess of Dorne, Lady Ashara Dayne. She has never seen him like this before.

When the trumpets were blown, she first riders entering the field. One, bearing the emblems of the red Rhoynar Sun pierced by the Martell's golden spear. Prince Oberyn Martell, The Red Viper as he was known, a man with a whoremonger reputation and that by now fucked half Westeros already. At least according to the tales, she heard from the maidens and servants.

The other one instead, had an indigo armour chased with silver, and wearing a helmet that was decorated with the wings of an eagle. If the mind didn't betray her, these were the colors of House Mallister of Seaguard.

The first clash resulted in a draw, shattering the lances in hundreds of pieces and the riders took their respective position as their squires brought other lances. The trumpets blew again and the knights, with the horse rearing up, charged at each other, at great speed. This time she saw the Red Viper lower his lance straight in the last moment, breaking the lance on the knight of Seaguard's helm, knocking him down from the horse.

She looked around as the people were in silence, for sure not expecting for the knight of Seaguard, till the Dornish ones were to break it, cheering loudly for their Prince. She glanced at the Princess of Dorne, Elia Martell, seeing her widely smile, but when she returned her attention to the field that in the meantime got cleared, Lyanna saw him enter the field in his armour black as night and decorated with rubies that were shining at the sunlight. Even if the visor of his helmet was lowered, with the gold, red, and orange silken waved by the wind in the air, Lyanna could see his indigo eyes look straight at her, pears her soul, making her feel a bit uneasy.

His opponent on the other hand was bearing the emblem of the sky-blue falcon soaring against a white moon, on a sky-blue field. Elbert Arryn he must be. She wondered if, that now Robert is sentenced to death, her father was going to marry her off to the heir of the Eyrie. She didn't know how she would feel about that. Elbert Arryn was indeed a handsome man as she could remember, with short blonde hairs, blue eyes and an aquiline nose that wasn't that much bad, but still, he wasn't like the man of her dreams. Tall and strong with long curly silver-blonde hairs with indigo eyes.

"It seems it's official," she hears Dacey say, and turning to the northern girl, Lyanna saw her nod towards the prince, and once she looked better, Lyanna finally noticed what was tied at his arm. It was a red and gold silk. House Lannister. Glancing at the Lannister side, Lyanna saw Lord Tywin's daughter smirking at her with a satisfied look. She curses under her breath "Damn golden whore," turning away when she felt tugging at her skirt and not expecting to see the knight of House Arryn riding towards her.

Bowing, the knight said, smiling, "Lady Lyanna. Would you do me the honour in allow to wear your honours?"

Rhaegar was looking through the visor at his opponent who was addressing the She-wolf of Winterfell not liking it. The people were in silence, waiting to see what the lady of the North that danced with the prince will do, and the same was Rhaegar, with the heart in his throat, and with a difficult breathing.

A few moments later, he saw her get up and tie a grey string around his left arm. Rhaegar couldn't believe that she did such a thing. Allowing another knight to wear her colors in the tourney and especially since he was riding against him. A sudden rage light inside him and his dragon blood started to boil. He will make pay the damn Arryn for this bold step.

When the trumpets sounded, Rhaegar urged his black war stallion forward with pointed lances and fury in the eyes. Moments later, he felt the enemy's lance strike him right in the breastplate, making him almost lose his stead.

Lyanna was squeezing her fist, with the heart racing like a thousand galloping horses in open fields. Her chest was moving fast because of the quick breathing and the anxiety growing, as the Dragon Prince was returning to his position, ready for the second round, taking the lance from his squire, charging at his opponent immediately. This time, when Rhaegar's lance made contact with Elbert's breastplate, the prince managed to unhorse his opponent, emerging victorious and advancing in the tilt.

He rode up to the royal box, rising his broken lance to those who were there and to the Lannister girl, before riding away after giving Lyanna a look.

Now it was the time for the third tilt of the morning, between the sword of the morning, Ser Arthur Dayne who is riding against the Lord of Runestone, as she could recognize because of the black iron studs on a bronze field, bordered with runes. From what her brother Ned told her about this House, the Royce are descendants from the First Men, and their bear this bloodline with proudness.

The squire brought the lances to their respective knights, as the horses were waiting impatiently for the signal of the banner and the trumpets to sound, and when the moment came, the stallion pranced on his rear, showing all his magnificence of a warhorse with the black mane floating in the air, before changing at his opponent who already took great speed. The clash was like a lightning which ended in a hearthbeat, and despite the breaking of the lances straight on the chest of the knights, but they stayed steady on the horses.

Lyanna glanced at the woman that was sitting next to her seeing with how much passion she was following this fight, and she wanted to laugh at that. It seems that the fearless she-bear has been conquered by a star in a shining armour. Lyanna wanted to laugh at the woman, trying to be all tough, but in the end, she melted for a knight.

Returning her attention back to the field, Lyanna saw the two knights clash again, resulting in a draw. Again. As they took, they position again, and the result was the same.

The challenge went on for four more draws until it was the tiredness the one to make them loose, or rather, make the Sword of the Morning win and unhorse the old man, rising his broken lance in victory. Lyanna glanced at Dacey seeing her display a huge smile, and she was happy, for a moment, before remembering that nothing may happen between them. Ser Arthur was a Kingsguard with oaths, and Dacey, well Dacey was Dacey.

It was time for the last tilt before midday and before everyone since on king's command, the semi-finals and finals tilts will be held in the afternoon and once dusk came.

Ser Barristan Selmy, member of the Kingsguard he was, and his opponent the Lord of Griffin's Roost, Jon Connington, who was glaring at her? Why was he glaring at her since she didn't even know him? Lyanna was so confused by the knight who lowered his helmet and taking the lance charged at the old knight.

But for Ser Barristan, the knight of the Griffin wasn't a thought opponent to defeat, and the Kingsguard unhorsed the man at the first tilt, under the cheers of the people.

With this last tilt before the midday, Lyanna glanced at the Royal box, seeing the king leave the tourney, followed by the Kingsguard and the queen.

Hours later...

Rhaegar was still in his tent, despite being called already twice by his squire that the trumpets had sounded, and it was time for him to join the field, but he was not feeling very well. His skull was ringing from because of the thirteen lances that Arthur broke on him before being unhorsed by him and nausea was swimming up his throat. "Rhaegar knew what would make him feel better. A kiss from the girl he fell in love with. But it wasn't possible. The girl hated him for a reason that was still unclear to him and even allowed the young Arryn to wear her favors. Rhaegar knew that he should not feel this way about that gesture considering that he himself wore the colors of another woman, but he feels somehow betrayed. Betrayed? Really?" he thought to himself. "It's not like she is my betrothed or wife. She is allowed to do what she wants and meet who she wants."

"Prince Rhaegar? The crowd awaits you," Myles said.

Rhaegar, releasing a sigh, and after taking a sip of water, left the tent, climbing on the horse, and putting on his dragon helmet, he rode away.

Dusk was coming as they were waiting for the final tilt between those great riders. The dragon prince Rhaegar Targaryen against one the greatest swordsman of the Seven Kingdoms. Ser Barristan Selmy.

The previews two were the best Ned has witnessed, especially the one between the Prince and the Sword of the Morning. A clash between titans he would say. But of course, right now, Ned was cheering for the prince in this final tilt not wanting for the Kingsguard to win this tourney and crown his beloved Ashara the Queen of love and beauty. Damn it! He should have joined the joust too.

The people started cheering when the two opponents joined the field, and Ned glanced at his sister for a moment seeing her wariness and anxiety displayed on her face. Poor girl. He felt sorry for her knowing that even if the prince emerges victorious, he is going to crown the queen of love and beauty Lady Cersei.

He glanced at the girl for a moment, seeing her smirk and look lustfully at the young prince. She was indeed a very beautiful woman that may lead every man to madness with her look. Emerald eyes as he could see, and long golden locks, that were left freely, but with some strands on top that were making a small braid. A fitting wife for the Dragon Prince.

The trumpets sounded as the opponents took their position and the squires brought their lances. When the flag was waved the two knights charged at each other, as dust was flying up from the ground. Hundreds of heartbeats happened before the two knights collided, resulting in a first draw, and they lost their lances at the impact.

The crowd started to cheer and clap for the knights, with more than half of them cheering for the prince of course. The two knights took their positions again, and as the squires brought another lance for them, before the flag waved and the opponents charged at each other in a speed of dust, colliding with each other, and breaking their lance, but kept being steady on the horse. This time the crowd gasped with an unpleasant expression.

Ned glanced at Ashara for a moment, to see how she was reacting, not expecting to find her doing that. She was waving her kisses and wandering her hand up and down the opening of her dress, making his cock stir at the filthy thought that they were forming. Daman, he hated her in these teasingly moments. She was killing him right now. Slowly killing, and a few moments later, she nodded her head to leave.

He bits his lower lips for a moment, before clearing his throat, and turning to his father, he mumbled, "I need to leave for a few moments, Father," without even waiting for the reply.

Moments later…

She lost count of how many times the lances broke on the respective knights before her Prince finally managed to unhorse his opponent with a very powerful blow to the chest, and the crowd burst in a roaring cheer.

"Dragon Prince! Dragon Prince! Prince Rhaegar! Prince Rhaegar!" And she was looking at him with love and adoration. Her Prince. Her beautiful silver-haired Prince.

Stopping the horse in front of the royal box, the Dragon Prince waited for the prize to be given him, and she couldn't wait for him to crown her Queen of Love and beauty. She glanced at her father, smiling widely, intertwining her hand, and biting them.

The King rose up and loudly said, "Here is your champion, people of the Seven Kingdoms. If it pleases you, Lord Whent hand the champion the crown of Winter Roses."

"Gladly," the old Lord replied, taking the crown, the lord, climbed down the stairs and handed it to the young prince.

Rhaegar glanced at her for a moment, smiling, as she was waiting impatiently for him to ride towards her. But as soon as he turned the horse, she couldn't believe her eyes where he was riding.

- Interlude -

The envoys from Oldtown had long since left the Rock, and Jaime ended the day practicing with his sword in the courtyard until almost late at night. He was also somewhat disappointed that Tywin did not take him to the tourney of Harrhenal, not knowing the true reason behind it. But Genna does. She knew more things than anyone in her and because of her loyalty, her brother left her here to run the Castle but at the same time keep the boys in line.

Genna now was sitting in the bath room where there was the great golden tube built by her grandfather, and the boy was sitting in the bath, enjoying the hot water that was relaxing his muscles for sure, but she knew without a good massage to undo the knots that build.

Taking a sip, she shifted in her seat, squeezing her thigh to prevent her growing arousal because of the naughty thoughts she was imagining right now. Young, strong arms wrapping around her, and a hard-young cock piercing her from behind. By the Gods, her husband wasn't good enough at that, and she wondered if this boy would be better. If someone saw them like that, they would call them mad. And would call out incest. But she wouldn't. Not a really closed one. Or would it still be?

Tywin was a fool to believe her regarding the children. Or maybe he knows the truth but refuses to admit it.

"I need to thank you, aunt Genna. Without you, I would have never been able to deal with the envoys," came the boy's voice, pulling her out from the filthy thoughts.

Taking a sip, and wallowing, she replied, smirking, "It was a pleasure, my dear." Getting up, and fixing her dress, Genna started to move towards the tub, stumbling sometimes on her way because of the too much wine, and sitting on the edge right behind the boy, who didn't notice her for a moment. "You know. Your father will be proud of you. The way you handled the situation not letting yourself be intimidated by him."

"Only because you were there, aunt," he replied, smiling, glancing up for a moment, before moving away. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Just sitting on the edge and enjoying the moment, nephew," she replied, smirking, untying her golden locks, and letting them freely, shaking her head. "Come. Don't be afraid."

Jaime came back, leaning his naked back against the wall of the thumb, closing his eyes, as Genna took some bath oil from the free cities, stroking her hands for a moment before placing them on the boy's shoulder.

"Aunt-"

"Shhh… relax, and let me take care of you," she replied, not letting him get up. "You have tired yourself today, my dear. Took many blows, and now your muscles are sore. If you don't treat them right now, you may run into unpleasant situations."

Jaime didn't reply, enjoying the moment, as she was stroking him, softly. Despite the young age, she could see the glimpse of the small muscles of the warriors like her brothers. Yet it was the dragon blood that was flowing in his vein and not the one of the lions of the Rock.

"How do you feel, my dear?" she asked, moving her attention on his chest, and slowly downwards but not enough to make him uncomfortable.

"Wonderful," the boy purred in a pleasant way, and Genna smirked, seeing his cock starting to harden. She wondered what Cersei would say if she rode her twin.

Suddenly they got interrupted by a knock at the door, and she immediately pulled away, getting up. "Yes."

The Maester entered inside saying, "A scroll from Lord Tywin, my lady." And Genna immediately started to read it quickly.

"What does it say, aunt Genna?"

"Bad news, Jaime," was the only thing she said, leaving the room, despite Jaime calling after her.