(A.N. are below)

II

Travels and Departures

ELAENA

Her mother arrived several weeks after Elaena's name day. That struck her as queer since she had never set foot in Driftmark since her father's funeral.

She did not arrive alone; Myrcella and Tommen were with her, and so many men sworn to protect House Lannister.

She had briefly wondered why, and thankfully her mother had quickly provided her with answers. Though maybe not the ones Elaena expected.

"Jon Arryn is dead." Her mother told her as she began pacing in her room like some caged lioness.

The news of Lord Arryn's death reached Driftmark yesterday night. Elaena had barely known the man from the short time she had lived at court with her mother and siblings. Does mother think that I was fond of the King's Hand? Why is she here? Shouldn't she be at the funeral? She was a member of the royal court.

Her mother continued speaking and pacing around the room. "The king will need a new hand, and everyone knows who he's going to pick."

Elaena did not.

"Eddard Stark." She said the name as if it were a curse. "Of all the men that the sot could have picked he picked Eddard Stark."

Elaena couldn't help but wonder what made Lord Stark such a bad choice.

Cersei looked at her daughter. The green of her eyes were glimmered like wildfire. "We need to act, fast. Eddard Stark is no fool. He has two daughters, and with his new position, he'll have one his vapid girls marry the crowned prince."

This time Elaena could not stop herself from asking. "Why would he do that?"

Cersei snorted. "Why wouldn't he? My father tried to do the same with me. Had it not been for Aerys' madness, I would have married Rhaegar. I was the best choice."

Elaena did not doubt it. Her mother was said to have been the most beautiful girl in the Seven Kingdoms and the best dowered.

And she still is...

The daughter of the Old Lion had married three times. The first; with Elaena's father, the former Lord of Tides and master of ships to the Mad King. The second was Tommen and Myrcella's father, Jason Lannister, a cousin that served as master of coin for some years. And third and most recently, Josmyn Plumm, though their marriage was a short one, he died whilst choking on a pigeon pie a year ago.

The fact that she outlived three husbands did not seem to deter any suitors.

She was just that beautiful.

"We need you to enthral the prince, to captivate him, Elaena." Her mother was now looking at her intently. "I'll have you know that Loras Tyrell brought his sister, Margaery, to court."

For a moment, Elaena's heart stopped.

Margaery was as beautiful as she was clever. Margaery was as graceful as she was rich. Margaery was as charming as her family was powerful.

And to top it all, Margaery and Prince Edric used to be close friends when they were children. Edric had barely looked at Elaena when they were young.

Did Prince Edric fall for the Rose of Highgarden? Elaena wanted to ask, but she didn't say anything. It was better this way, otherwise her mother would surely call her stupid. Instead, she could only manage a "Why?"

"Why? Don't be so dense girl, it's the same as with Stark, it's because they can!" Mother exclaimed. "Renly and Tyrell wants this insipid girl to be queen. And they seem to be succeeding, the court loves her."

"And prince Edric? Does he…?"

"Has been spending time with her, naturally." Mother said in a dry voice. "But not as much as most of the court. And the queen has little love for her niece."

That somewhat relieved her but also left Elaena puzzled. "Why? The queen and Margaery's mother are sisters."

"Half-sisters." Her mother corrected. "The queen and Lady Tyrell are not close."

Elaena only had half-siblings, and she was quite close to them... Or at least that was what she thought.

"Besides, our Good Queen cannot stand the Little Rose's father. Not that I could blame her, the man is a fool."

"But what if Edric falls in love with her?" Elaena asked plaintively.

"Why would he when he could have you?" Her mother asked. "You are beautiful."

"So is Margaery," Elaena replied frustrated and looked to the plain stone floor of her bedroom. Driftmark was a large castle, but not a very lavish one.

"She is pretty, that much I grant you." Cersei admitted. "But not striking. Not like you." Her mother took her by the hand and led her in front of the mirror in the room. "Margaery's hair is brown like dirt, yours is fair and shines like white-gold." Cersei took a strand of her hair and played with it. "Her eyes are plain and dark, while yours are bright and blue."

Her mother turned her around so she would face her. "The blood of Kings and Dragonlords run through your veins. What does the Tyrell girl have that you don't? An unblemished jumped-up steward's bloodline?"

The prince's friendship.

"Robert might be a fool, but he is not mad. And the queen favours you, she told me herself." Cersei caringly held her daughter's face in her hands and smiled softly at her. Her mother looked even more beautiful when she smiled.

"While their son..." Cersei's smile widened. "Will more than appreciate your beauty. He'll drown in it."

Elaena managed a smile. "Then when shall we return to King's Landing?"

"Not King's Landing. Winterfell."

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Two weeks had passed since her mother arrived, and it was her last night before they would leave Driftmark for the north.

Myrcella was in her room helping her pack her dresses, but like any young girl, she got distracted and began paying more attention to the jewellery, especially one certain egg. Myrcella stood beside the egg watching it with child-like wonder while she ran her little fingers over the shiny blue scales. She treated it as if it was a babe.

Elaena wondered if this was how she looked when she first saw Myrcella.

Elaena smiled as she remembered that day in King's Landing when she entered her mother's bedroom and saw her little sister wrapped in blankets in her arms: so small and so pink, and with Lannister gold for hair.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" She asked her little sister.

Flashing green eyes full of mischief darted towards her.

"It is." The little girl agreed. "I wish I had one of these. I would be so happy... But I also wish I had your dresses." Myrcella went over her bed and picked up one of her dresses and pressed the fabric against her small body. "They are just so lovely."

And I wish I had my mother with me... Elaena thought with a tepid grievance: she also remembered being sent back to Driftmark alone without her mother: She had been too young. Instead of saying anything of that sort, Elaena smiled at her little sister.

"Are you going to take it to Winterfell? The dragon's egg, I mean." Myrcella asked.

"I am not sure... It might get lost or stolen." Elaena explained. "It is a family heirloom. An expensive one, besides." She took the egg out of the box and examined it again: blue and silver glistening with the light.

Her dragon's egg...

"Should I leave it here?" Elaena asked her little sister, not expecting an answer from the seven-year-old girl.

Who's going to take care of her while I am gone? Aurane? Monty?

"Maybe I should ask Alyssa." Elaena thought out loud.

Myrcella looked puzzled. "Your good-sister? Why?"

Because Monford is careless, Monterys is a child and Aurane is a brute. "She's sensible and dutiful." She said instead, placing the egg back in the box.

"I haven't seen her since we arrived." Myrcella pointed out in a haughty manner that reminded her of their mother. "Is she really that dutiful?"

Alyssa hasn't left her room for three weeks now. "She's not well, Cella." Elaena reprimanded. Though the truth was that sometimes her good sister would go into her room and not come out for weeks. Elaena wasn't sure why, and she didn't think it was appropriate to go bothering her out of her own curiosity.

She grabbed a dress and began folding it.

"Is she sick?" Myrcella asked.

"Yes, she is." Elaena lied.

"Of what?" The little girl questioned.

"I don't know." She answered

"Shouldn't you ask about it?"

"I did." Elaena lied again, this time hoping her little sister would stop asking.

It did not work.

"You asked the maester, right?"

"Yes."

"What did he say? Is it serious?" Myrcella pressed.

"I forgot," Elaena said, louder than she intended. She was starting to lose her patience.

"So it's not that severe, then?" Myrcella asked.

"Myrcella." Elaena warned the girl.

But the girl ignored her. "Then what do you think she has?"

"Myrcella." She repeated, louder this time.

"Don't you think that she might be faking it? Mother said–"

"Enough!"

With her patience gone, Elaena dropped the folded dress on the chest and looked at her sister intently. "Why do you have to be so annoying?"

"I'm not annoying!" She said, offended. "I was just asking."

"You were asking too many questions. You were doing it on purpose."

"How else am I going to get any answers?" Myrcella said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I gave you answers."

"Bad answers." Her sister replied haughtily.

"Ugh..." Vexed, Elaena gathered up her skirts and stood. She picked up her dragon's egg from the box and made her way out of the room.

"Where are you going?!" Myrcella asked, slightly upset.

Elaena opened the door. "I am going to say goodbye to Alyssa and ask her to take care of my egg."

Before her little sister could say anything else, Elaena got out and quickly closed the door behind her. Outside in the hallway, Elaena let out a sigh of relief.

Maybe half-sisters aren't meant to like each other very much... Elaena pondered, recalling her mother's words about queen Alysanne and Lady Tyrell.

Or maybe she was just being unfair to her little sister. Myrcella was only seven, after all. At that age, Elaena also had an insatiable curiosity and asked just as many questions.

She'll grow out of it, just as I did.

One day their lady mother will teach her.

I'll apologise... Later.

First, she'll pay her good sister a visit.

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Alyssa's bedroom was large and well decorated, but, like most of the castle, it was rather damp and humid.

"Alyssa?" Elaena called, waiting by the open door.

"Hm?" Alyssa hmed.

"I came here to say goodbye. We leave on the morrow." Elaena said as she entered the room. Somehow she forgot about the egg she had been holding in her arms.

Alyssa turned to look at her. "Monford is going to travel with you."

Elaena wasn't sure if her good-sister was asking or stating that. "Yes. We will arrive at White Harbour and then travel north to Winterfell. But not Monford. I am certain he will return after we are settled for the other travel."

Alyssa snorted. "And not before finding some wench to warm his bed."

"He wouldn't do that," Elaena argued. "Not to you."

Alyssa's face became even more sullen. "It's sad how I came to expect that." She sighed.

"You are his lady wife. He loves you, surely." Elaena said, trying to sound reassuring. She left the egg on top of a nearby stand.

Alyssa looked at Elaena intently, her blue eyes shining with sadness. "And you know why Monford and I married..."

They married so Monford's claim would have more legitimacy. That much she knew. Alyssa's mother, Aemma, had been the only surviving child of Ser Aemon Velaryon, who had been, for a time, the heir of Driftmark. By Andal tradition, Aemma should have been the Lady of Driftmark. But Velaryons were not from andal stock, and every time a girl came before a boy in the line of succession, she would be passed over in favour of the male heir.

There had never been a woman ruling Driftmark, and according to Aurane, there'll never be.

"He loves me not." Alyssa declared with solemn resolution. "And why would he? He was a boy of four-and-ten when he wedded me. I took his youth away from him. He should have been kissing girls and siring bastards like a young lordling. Not marrying an older woman."

"But you are beautiful." Elaena protested. "Your eyes are bright, and your hair is fair."

Alyssa seemed mildly humoured by the notion. "And? Eye and hair colour does not make one more or less beautiful."

"Mother said it did." Elaena pressed. "She said that made us stand out."

She shook her head and smiled half-heartedly. "Men don't care about that. Not really. Besides, beauty doesn't guarantee you being loved."

Her mother told her it made it easier to do so. "But–"

"Elaena." Alyssa cut her short. "We've been married for six years. We don't like each other. And I have only given him one son, one! And I am almost thirty! Every day that passes, my chances of getting with child become more narrow." Her voice began to quiver a little. "Do you know how many miscarriages I have gone through?"

Shocked and slightly ashamed, Elaena remained still and silent, hesitant on what to do or say.

"Six. The last one was two months ago." Alyssa placed her hand on her belly. "I fear I will not be able to give your brother another son." She began to shake, too. "I am barren."

And, after a moment of silence, Alyssa began to cry.

Out of instinct, Elaena pushed any doubt aside and hurried to her good-sister to embrace her in her arms.

They had never been close, likely due to the age gap between them: sixteen years. There weren't many topics for them to talk about. Nonetheless, Elaena held Alyssa like a sister until she stopped crying.

Alyssa pull off from the embrace and rubbed off the remaining tears with the sleeves of her dress. "I am sorry. I–"

"Don't be." Elaena cut her off. "It's fine."

Her good-sister turned to look at her, her face showing a mixture of tiredness and embarrassment. "Thank you." For a moment, there was an awkward pause. "I am quite tired. Can I help you with something else?"

Elaena looked behind her where she had left her dragon's egg. "Yes, there is."

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MAEGOR

The forest of Qohor divided the Free Cities from the Dothraki sea. It was said to be one of the largest in the known world, and it was known that the vast majority of the fortune of the city it was named after came from it.

Or was it the other way around? Maegor wasn't sure. He wasn't sure about many things regarding the history of the Free cities even though he had spent most of his life living in them.

Galladon had not been a good teacher in that regard. The old knight taught him in arms, not books. Moreover, had it not been for his own mother, he would most likely not have learned to read or write.

Mother.

Maegor couldn't help but remember those long-lost days. Everything had seemed so simple back then. Every morning in the backyard of the bathhouse where they used to live, Galladon would teach him the arts of battle, and in the evening, after his mother would have the bathhouse closed for the day, she would teach him the art of letters.

He leaned back against one of the trees native to the forest; the bark felt coarse against the back of his head. It felt like a bitter reminder:

He was not a boy anymore. His childhood burned with the bathhouse and his mother six years ago, and any trace that remained died with Don.

Now he was a knight sworn to the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms and his family.

Though, at this moment, he felt more like a meaningless guard.

Since they began travelling, Maegor had been tasked to guard princess Daenerys' tent. Nothing more, nothing less.

A better prospect than what his uncle Damion offered. Better be a simple guard that gets to travel the world than a goat herder or a fisherman trapped on an island.

Right?

Maegor sighed and looked at the sky to find some distraction from his thoughts, only to find the golden canopy above him.

At first, he thought it wonderous, but after days of travel, the novelty had worn off. After all, they were only trees with golden leaves. Tired of the sight, he looked elsewhere and found Daenerys's tent.

Maybe I could check inside... Maegor thought. He doubted anyone would mind if he went to check the Khaleesi's tent. And if they do, he could always lie and say that he thought he saw something going inside the tent.

Committed, he got up from the ground, brushed the dirt off his trousers, headed toward the tent, and entered inside.

As he let the door flap close behind him, Maegor saw that the dragon's eggs were resting atop a black velvet cushion. The lamplight outlined their stony scales, and shimmering specks of jade, gold and red could be seen.

For the first time, he picked up the largest of the eggs and studied it. It was heavier than he'd expected, and its fine black and red scales were strangely smooth to the touch.

He glanced back at the other two eggs, green and white. Maegor remembered the stories about Aegon and his sisters Visenya and Rhaenys and their three dragons Damion used to tell him when he was little.

All three eggs seemed to match one of the conquerors' dragons. The white matched Meraxes, the green Vhagar, and the one he held was black and red, like Balerion.

Black and red, like the dragon in my dream.

Maegor remembered his dream, the one that started everything, where he had been alone in a boat drifting alone amongst a sea of nothing, with no direction and no sense. Fateless. But then, the sun rises, and with it, the dragon of his dreams.

But Maegor's musings ended when he suddenly heard Daenerys's voice.

"That belongs to my brother."

Maegor almost dropped the egg; it had caught him off guard. He felt himself blush and tripped over his own tongue as he tried to stammer out a courtesy.

"Forgive me, princess." He managed.

Thankfully Daenerys did not seem to notice his struggle.

"Ser Maegor. I see that you have taken a liking to the dragon's eggs." Her voice and posture irradiated deference, but a small smile betrayed that. Maegor knew she was amused by his stupidity.

He blushed again, harder this time.

You are a knight! Not some puerile maid. Start acting like one. He told himself. After Maegor regained some of his composure, he immediately placed the dragon's egg back on the cushion, and after that, he kneeled before her.

"Forgive me again, princess. I meant no offence."

"None taken. Please, rise ser Maegor." Daenerys commanded; her voice still laced with mirth. The young Khaleesi turned to her handmaidens. "Irri, Jhiqui, leave us. I wish to speak to my cousin alone."

As the two Dothraki handmaidens left the tent, Maegor took in the appearance of the Targaryen princess. She wore her usual Dothraki garb: riding leathers and a painted vest. Her hair was oiled, and dirt and dust stained her from head to toe. A far cry from the girl he had met in Illyrio's manse.

"Princess, I do not wish to interrupt anything."

"Don't worry about it." Daenerys shrugged. "Though I must ask what are you doing inside my tent."

"I was..." For a moment, Maegor forgot what to say. "I mean, I saw something crawling inside the tent. Maybe one of those silver monkeys or a spotted lizard, princess." He told the girl. "I just wanted to check, that's all. But you must not worry, princess, I didn't find anything."

Daenerys gave him a shy smile. "You found Viserys' dragon egg, though."

Again, Maegor found himself blushing awkwardly before the girl.

"Princess–" Maegor began, but Daenerys cut him off.

"Please, cousin, you can call me Daenerys when we are alone... Or Dany, if you wish." She said. Daenerys walked past him and picked up one of the dragon's eggs: the white one with golden swirls. The girl cradled the egg as if it was a child and pressed it against her chest.

The image served as a reminder of how painfully young the girl was.

Wedded and bedded at thirteen to a Dothraki Khal.

"As you wish, Daenerys." He said.

The girl beamed at him. But her visage changed abruptly and now appeared to be brooding.

Daenerys looked into his eyes. "Maegor, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." He nodded.

"Why are you here?" She asked. "I mean, not that I want you to leave but... last time, when you told me about your life in Claw isle..."

He had forgotten he had told her about it.

Now she was the one blushing. "I don't know how to say this, but it just sounded so... nice. Why did you leave? Why are you with us?"

"Oh... well, there are plenty of reasons."

"Which are...?"

"Curiosity for one. I grew up listening to the stories about our family. I wanted to meet you all, I guess... " Maegor looked at the girl intently, but after a moment he smiled. "Purpose is another... And that one ties into my dreams." He added to humour himself.

But that seemed to catch Daenerys' attention.

"Dreams?" She asked. "What kind of dreams?"

"Dragon dreams, I think," Maegor replied. "My uncle told me that there have always been Targaryens who dreamed of dragons, fate and the such." He explained. "But maybe I am plain mad. We Targaryens seem to have that disposition." He chuckled.

"You are not mad. I also have those dreams." Daenerys revealed.

"You do? With dragons and... stuff?"

Daenerys giggled a bit. "Yes. With dragons and stuff."

Maegor found himself smiling. Is it like this to have a little sister? He wondered.

Daenerys, in turn, examined the egg in her hands. "Ever since Illyrio gave them to me, the dragon in my dream has always been white, like this one." She held the egg up so he could see it better.

The room fell in silence, and with that Maegor grew uncomfortable. "Maybe Meraxes is watching you in your dreams." He joked, lamely. But it was meant to break the tension. "The one in my dreams is black, like Balerion."

Daenerys knelt down and placed the egg back on the velvet cushion. She sat down on the carpeted floor of the tent and crossed her legs. "Those were the conquering dragons, right?"

"Yes, they share their colouring with the eggs. Meraxes was white and had golden eyes, and Balerion was black and had red eyes."

"Huh, I didn't know about that... To be honest, I only knew how Balerion looked." She said thoughtfully. "Who told you about this?"

"My uncle Damion. He studied in the citadel for a couple of years when he was young."

"Did he tell you about Vhagar?"

Maegor nodded. "She looked just like this one." He went over and picked up the green and bronze egg.

"They all seem to match perfectly..." Daenerys said contemplatively. "Maybe it's an omen."

Maegor returned the egg to its place. "Hopefully, a good one." He lent his hand to Daenerys.

The gesture seemed to have stricken her as odd since she only looked at him quizzically. She took it nonetheless, and Maegor helped her off the ground.

Daenerys was about to say something when someone called for her.

"Khaleesi." It was one of the Dothraki handmaidens.

"Irri. What is it? Is there a problem?" Daenerys asked.

"Tateana of Myr asks for the young valyrian man. Khalessi Rhaggat wants to see him."

Maegor looked at Daenerys. "It's Rhaenys. She wants to see you." The young girl explained.

He couldn't help but let out a sigh. "Duty calls."

Daenerys looked at him and smiled apologetically.

He smiled back and bowed. "Good night, then, princess." And walk away. But when Maegor was about to leave the tent, he heard Daenerys calling out.

"Ser Maegor." He turned to look at the girl. "Ser Jorah and I would have dinner together. Would you care to join us?"

He smiled. "Of course, Khaleesi."

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She was waiting outside alone. Her only company was the lamplight she held in her hand.

"Ser Maegor." She said with a soft Myrish accent.

"My lady." He greeted her.

"The queen wishes to have a word with you."

"I see..." He said, but it wasn't the only thing he saw. He took in the appearance of the Myrish woman; full-breasted and long-legged, with smooth olive skin, ripe lips, wide hips, huge dark eyes, and thick black hair that tumbled down to her waist. This was a woman grown; she couldn't have been older than twenty-five nor younger than twenty.

"May I ask why?" He asked with mild hesitance. Her beauty made him nervous.

"She didn't tell me." Tateana shrugged.

There was an awkward silence. But Lady Tateana seemed unfaced, and then she turned around and began walking away. "Follow me." She instructed him. The command was simple and was said with the utmost carelessness.

And he obliged.

They walked in silence, Tateana leading and him trailing behind. Maegor could not help but note how the Myrish woman moved her hips as she walked. Every step a seduction.

Even so, he chastised himself for doing it. A knight must embody chivalry. A knight treats women with respect. Or at least that was what Don used to say.

In his boredom, Maegor glanced at the sky, wishing to see the stars, but he only found the now dark canopy above him. The darkness upset him much more than he thought it would.

"Lady Tateana, did the queen tell you why she wants to talk to me?"

"You already asked me that."

For once, he was grateful for the dark as it allowed him to hide the flush staining his cheeks.

"Then why do you think she wants to talk to me?

She turned her head slightly, and Maegor caught a glimpse of a smile on the Myrish woman's face.

"I believe it has something to do with our king..." Tateana said. "At times, he disappears to meet someone you might know."

Viserys? Disappearing? Maegor thought it hard to believe that the highly strung king would even dare to disappear to meet anyone.

They finally arrive at the queen's tent. And it was just as plain as Daenerys'. He stepped inside and saw his queen.

She wore an expensive dress of deep purple silk that hung from her body thanks to a golden torc. The colour brought out the colour of her eyes: deep, dark and purple.

"Oh, dear cousin." Rhaenys greeted him.

It always amused him to be called cousin. The truth was, in terms of bloodlines, they were too far apart to be considered family. At this point, the only thing they shared was their House.

We are the last dragons of Valyria. Maegor thought with the most tepid ardour.

Maegor kneeled before his queen.

"Rise, ser." The young queen commanded him. And it felt like she enjoyed it way too much.

"My Queen, I–"

"My beloved cousin," Rhaenys cut him off. "I've heard that you have been tasked to guard Daenerys' tent."

"Yes, I have." Which is something you tasked me to do in the first place, he wanted to add, but he held his tongue. He doubted she would appreciate any correction.

"It must be so hard on you..."

Is she mocking me? The only thing I do is stand around a tent.

"All the things you must hear from that tent. By the seven..."

"What noises, my queen?" Maegor asked, confused. Is she drunk?

Rhaenys looked completely puzzled. "Oh, so you haven't heard that..." She looked at Lady Tateana. "Well... Surely it's better this way."

"Forgive me, my queen, but I am not following," Maegor said.

"No, it's just our marital duties. I mean Daenerys'"

Maegor stood there clueless and feeling stupid.

"It's the price every wife must pay." Rhaenys let out a sigh. "Unfortunately for our dear Daenerys, the price she must pay is too high."

Tired of so much fuss, Maegor decided to take a more forward approach. "My queen. You asked for a word with me. What is it?"

"Ah, yes... You must forgive me." She said as she took a seat on the padded couch. "I have been quite messy as of late." She picked up a goblet and drank what was left inside.

She is drunk.

"You see, apparently my husband and I... more like my husband doesn't." The young queen struggled with the words. "It's not that. My husband. I think he is being unfaithful."

What did she want him to say?

"I want to know who he's being fucking so I can put an end to it." She said. "I believe it's one of Dany's servants, the Lysene girl, no doubt. But I am not quite certain." She began playing with the gilded goblet in her hands. "You spent most of your time in that tent. Have you noticed something weird with the Lysene whore?"

He wasn't sure what to say. Maegor had never paid much attention to Daenerys' handmaidens. Doreah was missing today, yes, but he also could not have seen her.

"I am not sure, my queen. I haven't noticed anything odd happening."

His answer did not seem to have pleased the queen. "Gods, you are useless." Rhaenys let out a huge sigh. She looked about to fall asleep. "Go. I don't want to see you anymore. Go and stay listening to the moans and cries of the little princess." She waved her hand dismissively. "Tateana, please escort my cousin out. And be quick, I want to sleep."

"As you wish, your grace." The Myrish woman bowed and took Maegor out of the tent.

"Tateana," Maegor called when they were outside and out of Rhaenys reach. The Myrish beauty turned to look at him.

"What was all that nonsense regarding Daenerys and the noises in her tent? She called it marital duties. Why?"

The Myrish woman gave him a small smile and hovered closer to him. She stood there looking at him in silence.

"The Westerosi call it bedding. The Dothraki call it fucking."

"I call it rape." And with that, the Myrish woman left him alone in the dark.

Alone in the dark, he remembered buried memories.

And alone in the dark, he began to weep.

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A.N: So this one is a bit darker...

Well, I hope you guys like this chapter!

Reviews/Comments motivate me to write more! So please R&R

ATTENTION: I don't like doing this, but since this platform doesn't allow "Public Replies" to comments I'll have to do this. But keep in mind that this will be the first and last time I do this. IN OTHER WORDS, If you have any questions regarding this story, asked them in ao3 (the story goes by the same name), there I can answer them immediatly.

Q&A Ch. 1

I'll answer them without trying to spoil anything (This will be exclusive to this site):

So, Toraach asked:

"How did Tywin discovered the twincest?"
He caught them 'in the act' by accident. (I know, it's simple)

"Who is Cersei's second husband?"
Jason Lannister, the eldest son of Damon Lannister and Ella Lannister. He served as master of coin for King Robert before Littlefinger. He died in 294 a.c. (I completely made him up, btw)

"What happened to Jaime?"
He is still a Kingsguard (still the Kingslayer).

"Who is Robert's wife? Some Hightower girl"
Robert's wife is Alysanne Hightower.

"Mormont and Mace are his brothers in law. Especially that with Mace has a lot of political implications."
Yes but... Well that would be telling. The only thing that I can tell you is that Alysanne, Alerie and Lynesse are half-sisters. Lord Leyton Hightower (their father) married many times. Alysanne is from his first marriage, Alerie from the second and Lynesse from the third (The order is completely my invention).

How exactly is Maegor related to the Kings of old?
Maegor's father, Baelor, was the son of Maegor Targaryen, who in turn, was the son of Aerion Brightflame and Daenora Targaryen (That's why he has Rhaegel's ring).

Are Baela and Baelor siblings?
No. Baela is a Velaryon through and through, and Baelor was a Targaryen. Also Baelor (born in 251 a.c.) is much younger than Baela Velaryon (born in 226 a.c).

"How is Rhaenys alive?"
Well, since Cersei was already married, Tywin had no reason to pick a side during Robert's rebellion, therefore no Lannister sacking of King's Landing (and no Mountain that rides).
In this universe, House Hightower joined Robert's side and they were the ones that took the city. They were't as brutal as the Lannisters in canon.