A/N: As a reminder for my long-time readers: I changed the title of the story to 'Lyarra' from 'Bastard in the Cradle' (the first arc). This story has been spinning in my head for over a year and is self-indulgent. Let me know your feelings with a review!
The Bastard in The Cradle Arc
CHAPTER SEVEN
The city had come out in droves during their departure. Nobles weighed down by their heavy gold jewelry and fine fabrics to the dredges of Flea Bottom with their haunting, hollow faces all lined the streets, leaning over balcony rails and perched on terracotta roofs and pushing away stray dogs as they watched the men on horses and the silk-covered litters move toward the Dragon Gate.
The entire Crownlands still seemed to experience the joy of the wedding along with the drawn-out tourney after. There seemed to be only smiles as far as she saw on the street, but Camille could spy as she slipped from sparrow to pigeon to starlings that further back there were those who still had to work along with their ragged children did not quite feel the same. The bolder barefoot ones ran along the procession. Camille would lift the pieces of white cloth of gold and silver satin to see them and when Yadira saw their peering faces, she closed the small window over the door and ordered Ernatta to do the same. Aldoryssa only gave a soft smile to her as she stared at her governess. Yadira never hid that she did not have much love for the small folk.
How different her life would be if she were born like most of the world, she thought, like in her past life.
Baby Jon was with his nurse and ladies in the litter right behind them, but Eddard rode at the head of the party, a standard bearer with the wolf of Stark snapping in the wind as he said goodbye to the King. Robert himself seemed as if he would cry. He laughed and hugged Camille's father at least seven times while all of their men stood in gleaming polished plate as they waited in the heat. Glover and Royce and Egen and Flint and others she did not remember with many other lords stood with them all waiting. But it was Jon Arryn who ended it at the command he writes along the way and to greet his young wife joyfully for him, until he sent for her. and as he said goodbye, there was a knock on Yadira's window.
Looking through the screen, she saw a man in lilac and white, and Yadira barely looked at him as she received a parcel wrapped in silk string. She snapped it closed with a nod to the man who had disappeared as quickly as he came. Yadira opened it quickly, and a smile appeared as a gold chain and pendant dropped to her lap, and Camille spied lilac wax on the parchment. Her grandmother Ariadne must have written back.
Cracking the seal, Yadira smiled more broadly as she read. "A letter from your mother Arra!"
"Mamma?" Camille had perked up. She had wondered what took Ashara so long to write. Camille missed her, and her hugs, and the bitter teas she liked to drink. She missed Starfall most of all. Camille had found this place a terrible assault on her nose and it didn't matter how much seasoning was on meat if it wasn't cooked well. Camille didn't care if it was the king's favorite dishes- she was desperate to drink her mother's favorite bitter tea just for the comfort.
"Oh yes. Your mother says she is most pleased by your lessons, and your progress in your courtesies. She misses you, her little love, greatly." She held the letter tight with a broad smile. A nervous one, if Camille knew her governess, and she thought she did. She wanted to read the letter herself—Yadira was clever enough to omit things as she did with her father when recounting Camille and Baby Jon's day, and maybe to the king.
"I want to see." Her voice was childish and high-pitched, and Yadira smiled when she stuck out her hand. Instead of the letter, she placed what was actually a locket in her hand instead. The chain was fine gold with pearls, and the locket was then grabbed by Ernatta who opened it for her. In vivid colors was her mother in some semi-realist form of painting, and at that moment, Camille longed for cameras. But it was still her mother and she would take it.
"Mamma," Camille said, holding it. Her eyes were at least the correct shade of violet. she fought a sigh. Ashara was so far away. Ernatta instead placed it around her neck, where Camille held onto it as she clasped it.
"What a beautiful sight," Yadira said, tucking the parchments and staring into her robes. Aldoryssa agreed. Camille still wanted the letter, and as they moved to the rolling fields surrounding the King's Road, she was determined to get it.
Camille had taken to the sky as soon as they allowed her to doze off. The dove she had found went through the wide sky of pinks and blues and purples, as she looked over the last of the city and its ladies laced in their stiff silks, the lords and their ropes of gold, and the twisting streets with all the many faces of the small folk. She watched for a moment as the Great Sept stood with its towers spearing the sky glimmering against the morning sun and the seagulls cawed by the Blackwater Rush, then turned away.
Like all other travel, it lasted for days in a similar pattern. The sun woke them in the morning, brightening the sky to a pale blue and dogged them with heat all afternoon, until the sky dyed itself golden orange and bronze and let the moon have its time in the sky.
Camille still could not get the parchment, and went she had gotten to Yadira's cloak, far from her ladies reach, Eddard gave her a grin for her sense of adventure and watched as he sternly reminded Yadira to mind her. Yadira seemed alarmed she was even in her tent, let alone rummaging through a cloak to which she only gave her classic smile. Ernatta has received a tongue lashing from Yadira after she had left, and in guilt, she had stayed near her and her cousins for some time. Later that night she watched Yadira tend to her own fire and knew then that it was long gone.
As the days came and went, Eddard finally had relief that her litter and palfreys were much more efficient than any wheelhouse, though the cramped legs of her ladies said otherwise. They had crossed the slow-flowing streams and rolling grasslands listening to people sing, and watching them dance and otherwise make merry. Those that did not had no place near her and her baby brother. Lord Howland saw to that.
The country had a loud rummaging sound during the day, with the trail of lords and servants and carts that followed them. On their breaks, Yadira would lead her and her brother with their ladies to beautiful marshes where the birds seemed to rush from the reeds with shrill calls and horses thundered by on small trails. Camille played among the tall grasses and thick mud and its wildflowers, feeling the breeze sweep over her as she tried to make her own garland of pink flowers. It was peaceful, and in the midst of the wind, she touched her pendant. She had wished her mother was here. Ashara liked to be outside in the sun.
One night, during the night symphony of clattering cicadas and droning crickets and croaking frogs, Yadira had nodded to Ernatta, wrapping Camille in her bed robe, then a cloak, and carried her past the roaring fire where the lords and her father sat drinking and talking. Further from the camp, the sky blinked with lights more vivid than anything Camille remembered in her past life. She did not think the stars could all shine so bright.
Yadira has taken her to the edge of a river, letting her feet sink in the mud, and told her of their ways, the Rhoynar. How they lived on the greatest river, the Rhoyne, which was greater than any river in Westeros, and how their water wizards put spells in the river for boats and fountains and baths. She could only stare and grasp tightly to her leg as Yadira knelt and watch as she placed her palm near the water to make it smooth and still as glass. She could feel her fingers tingle then her forearms and then her neck as Yadira then raised the water like a fountain, and then drop it, giving her a grin. When she divided the water to the river bed, revealing he pebbles and flora, she gasped, her whole body shivering from the feeling.
Camille's heart raced and her hands shook as Yadira encouraged her to try, but she could only make the water ripple if that wasn't her leg moving. Yadira, much out of her stern nature, giggled and encouraged her attempt. Those nights would be few on the journey, but she loved them the most.
But now Camille was on a pony of her own with two grooms to watch her. Her father had no problem with her getting used to riding and was happy enough to see her preoccupied rather than running away. Her two grooms led her on a slow pace to the Crossroads Inn, Theryse and Aurelia riding with their father or Yadira. They had passed the meandering loops of rivers and sandbars to this place; the terns flying overhead and the air fresh and sweet. She could only smile and laugh as she and her cousins rode, Yadira and Essine and their ladies all laughing at their excitement. Just outside of their bubble however, were hundreds of guards and armed men.
Essine and Yadira had spoken several times with each other and the household about travel — these lands used to belong to House Darry, but with the king's new decree it had gone to the Vyprens, who were to host them up the road in a few days. They had been slow enough to end up in the middle of the group, Eddard and her brother at the front still when a rider had come to them and quickly.
He had yelled to them first, which had earned both Essie and Yadira's ire, commanding them to the front, and to change immediately. She had looked to them all in confusion as she heard this and threw her arms to Ypolita riding beside her in response. She needed to see what was happening.
There was no time however, as Yadira, Essine, and the rider pulled apart as quick as they came together, and their commands came out at once as the man went back to the front. The Lady Stark, and her sister, the Lady Arryn, were to arrive today at the inn, far ahead of Eddard's arranged itinerary.
Essine had soon rode ahead with her ushers as they put her and her cousins into litters and rode roughly up the road Yadira sat all the while still as stone as Odall sighed and Ernatta fussed with her clothes. They spoke in hushed tones, the rolling tongue coming quickly. Hardly anyone around them spoke Dornish so there was no risk: what Dornishmen would tell their words to a northron after the war?
As Camille quietly played with a doll, Yadira was quick about releasing her feelings.
"There is no doubt this was some plot by Lord Fish after our stay in the capital. The Lady Stark was to meet us at the Twins."
"Do you believe the Lady Stark shall give us great trouble? After the queen had allowed us at the feasts?" Odall's worried look made Yadira sigh.
"The queen did not see us, Oda. It hardly mattered. She has her crown. But in the Riverlands, they worship their Paramount, I know. That love passes to the children."
Ernatta shrugged. "It makes sense they would do so. Her sister must come up the High Road. It seemed more than passing queer Lord Stark did not want to meet her here, instead."
Yadira gave a sneer at her words but Ernatta kept going.
"Lord Tully felt slighted at Camille's presence. Not that he should be, but northrons are sensitive about natural children."
"In truth, they seem to be sensitive about everything," Odall blurted, earning a smile from Yadira.
"It is true, I should have expected it," she admitted, "He hardly held back his distaste at the suppers or rides."
Yadira let out a sigh.
"I am worried what will happen here in the north. I would rather she had met us where Lord Stark rules, not her father."
They both agreed.
The inn was swarming with people when they arrived. Knights and men went back and forth, and Camille's ushers and her father's too were out of sight- it took one of her father's gentlemen, a Waterman, to get to her nursery. The inn was three stories tall with turrets and stone chimneys of white stone, and in her rooms, she had a hearth. It was then that Lord Howland had come and told Yadira that it was best if she napped during the initial greeting, and Yadira nodded in agreement. She made Camille practice her courtesies instead and had Ypolita ready her best gown and jewels.
They forced Camille to stay her nursery and only had the words of a page to report the event. She only needed to see Yadira's stillness and Essine's third cup of wine to know that trouble was coming. Soon enough they were escorted for their meal in the inn. Yadira had her dressed in a stiff cloth of gold gown with pearls and moonstones, a white samite undergown and a sheer silkshift the color of silver; her trail was long. She had gold everywhere: the pins of amethysts in her hair, her bangles at her wrists, her three necklaces. Yadira repeated three times it was very important she is polite to her father's wife and her family, and with how her gown weighed her down, she didn't doubt it.
Ladron took them down the cramped stairs. He gave a grin at the sight of them, as Yadira held her dressed in her own cloth of silver gown covered in jewels. At the bottom floor there was a throng of people all talking, and at the sight of Camille, it turned a murmur. Yadira had placed her on the ground, and with a final look she found the expected path they made when the people parted, a thousand eyes fixed upon her. Camille could not even see the ceiling as she stared around. She hated being a baby.
"Make way for the Lady Lyarra!" The herald startled her, and she froze for a moment until he finished, and then she moved forward to the front of the crowd. Everyone, with wheat and birds and swords and circles, men in chains, and a naked woman on their breasts and many more, gave curtseys and bows. She still could not see her father, and Camille held her hands together in front of her stomach like she had practiced–she needed to, so they would not see her shake. Camille had not even done this for the queen!
As she stepped forward Camille glanced around to see the giants, the gator, the horses and frogs, and at a table sat her father, dressed in a burgundy doublet with immaculate silver embroidery, and two red-headed women, both pale with blue eyes, and emotionless in gowns of red and blue. An older man of greying brown hair with a severe look similar to Stannis also sat to the left of the younger sister, in armor that looked like literal fish smells.
Camille executed her routine. She floated into her curtsey, as much as a child could, and weighed down underneath these heavy clothes. Three more steps forward she curtseyed again, this time Yadira with her. Her father had rose then, and she looked at him from under her lashes to see him. At that, he had given a slight grin, though the women and the old man frowned.
"You have risen from your rest then, my little Arra?"
Camille gave Eddard her best smile, feeling her dimples in her cheeks. The northerners who had grown used to the sight of her gave a little murmur at it.
"Yes father," she said, rising and taking only a step forward. Her voice was still high-pitched as ever. "But I spent more time practicing." There were titters at that, and Eddard had nodded then at her earnest look with a grin, commanding Yadira to rise.
"Good. Come forward and present yourself."
He had turned then to the woman next to him, the older sister, who had her face as expressionless as possible. Her red gown had bits of yellow in it along the seams and ends, and her hair was a vivid red wrapped in ribbons. She was pretty.
"It is an honor to meet you Lady Stark," Camille smiled, curtseying again. She gave her famous smile and walked forward again.
"Welcome, Lady Lyarra." She had given only a curt nod. Undeterred, Camille had turned to her sister, the Lady Lysa, and gave a similar greeting. Lysa's greeting was just as short as her sister's. Camille had turned then, the older man, and hesitated. She didn't know who he was. She assumed he was a knight, however.
"Well met good ser," Camille never let her smile fall. The old man merely nodded. How rude. To her delight, there was a red-haired squealer, just like Jon in a septa's arms, that Catelyn took notice of when he gurgled.
"That is my brother?"
Turing to her father, holding her smile, she let out a childish giggle, turning the studious look Eddard was giving the women over her head into a smile. He nodded. "Yes, Robb."
"He is like Jon," she insisted. The crowd murmured at that as Eddard nodded again. Where was Jon?
The thought left Camille's mind quickly, as Eddard had picked her up then, commanding everyone to eat, and where she sat next to her father her carver behind her cutting her meat for her to eat. All the while her blood was rushing. Eddard's wife did not like her, she realized. In fact, as they traveled north, delayed by a large number of lords and ladies in their retinues, she found that none of the riverine people did. Yadira was right.
That event had permanently altered her governess, and she was now always stiff as stone, flawlessly formal, and no longer taking her at night to the water. The riverlords and ladies 'watched everything they did and got in the way' Essine complained in their tent, and Camille agreed but cared little. She had snuck away twice to see him and once throwing a fit three tents down before one of his men had carried her to him.
Camille found her patience was wearing away with these people as she heard of her household's trouble: the riverine people glared at them during meals, harassed the handmaids, argued with the stablemen, and even began a fight with her guards (they won, of course). Lord Stark would only settle them and punish them lightly and send them away from his part of the camp. She was grateful when the older man, their uncle, and the sister had left with a large group of men, but it had solved no problems.
Camile had finished with her lessons for the day, tapping her clavichord randomly until Ypolita put her in her favor bed robe of the cream and gold and a nightcap for her hair, and taken by Yadira to her father.
The crickets and cicadas sung, the stars glittered, and through several yawns, she was grateful she didn't have to walk. However outside her father's tent were men in fish scale armor and women talking quietly. They all stared as they entered, Yadira giving smiled to the Northmen as they allowed her in while the riverine people stared and whispered.
It was a great shock to find her father was not ready for bed- Eddard was supposed to read her a book tonight, and then she would lie in the best bed for miles around and be cuddled by her father. It was quality time, something she valued. That, and the feather bed.
Eddard was instead sitting and drinking with her step-mother, Robb in her lap, a drooling mess, across a long table between them.
"Well met my lords. My lady," Yadira bowed, so she did too. But it was more of a bob. Luckily Yadira was not focused on her, looking over all the people in the tent. camille did the same. Four of her father's men and two grooms were working behind a silk wall, while two handmaids waited far behind Catelyn's chair. At the sight of her, her father smiled.
"I had forgotten. It is our night, isn't it Arra?"
"Your night?" the Lady Catelyn had looked between them in confusion.
"I read to Lyarra, and she stays with me for the night, my lady."
Catelyn had given a nod and smile, rising then. Camille did not like how she looked at her as she did so.
"Will you stay Lady Catelyn? With my brother as well?" The Lady Catelyn seemed to freeze at her words and looked to her father. Camille did not want to do the whole Cinderella thing. She would rather they got along. What better way than a bed-time story?
"It is your choice."
Her father had gestured for the book and his grooms as he readied to bathe and change. From the way he had gotten up, distant and formal, it did not look as if he thought she would stay.
"Please stay Lady Catelyn, this is the story of the Knight of the Red Lake," she was not above a little begging, making her eyes big, and pouting as she did so. It worked on her father and many other too.
The Lady Catelyn had only summoned her ladies and handmaids from outside, and handed her brother over to them, while having a cloak wrapped about her. She had not even looked at Camille as she had left, giving a cool goodbye to her father.