A/N: notyou: Likely because Martin is rarely interested in the romance. His main crutch is action. :) I, on the other hand, am solely interested in the romance. :)
"Have you persuaded him?" she asked softly, hoping that the abundant drink within kept the realm blind to her meandering. Or if not entirely blind, then at the very least disinterested. It was hard a thing to plan revenge when all eyes followed one.
Jaime rolled his eyes, the drinking horn in his hand tipping slightly. "He does not wish to joust, my fair lady. I have tried all I could think of, even offered him my own suit of armour. Your brother even attempted to drown the man's common sense in drink to convince him. The plain and simple should be clear enough even to you."
She took the horn from his hand with a grand gesture. "Are you not a knight? Haven't you a duty to this man?" Her fingers squeezed around the object, shaking visibly. She did hope no one paid them much mind. Lyanna pursed her lips up at him, silently demanding an answer to her query.
"My only duty is to make certain I don't wring your neck for being an insolent witch," he spat back, colour high in his cheeks. "If the man won't defend himself, I see no reason to intervene." When he did not immediately make for the horn, Lyanna blinked slowly. He did not fail her though. "And he would not want me to publicly defend him."
"He said so?" Granted, Howland Reed was one of the stranger creatures she'd encountered, but Lyanna was still taken aback. It was perfectly sensible to desire some sort of retribution, yet the man would neither dole nor condone any of it.
"He need not say it." The Lion's cub sat down to her right, hand reaching for the horn. The demand was met with a softening of her grip. "Were he not a knight himself, might be 'twould be smoother sailing upon the matter."
"But they were three in all and only one of him. Surely, 'tis no shame to lose when the fates themselves are set against you." Her hand free, Lyanna brought them together upon her lap. "Any man would have found it difficult to battle three opponents at the same time, let alone come out victorious."
The accepting nod given in reply did little to quell her indignation. Still, Jaime spoke over her when she opened her mouth to continue. "You chased them off and bore him away. Surely, you are well aware of what will come if we make the knowledge public." Lyanna did not answer. If she did not speak the words, she could deny the existence of it long enough to convince someone else to aid her. Jaime had no such compunction. "He is a knight and they were mere squires, not even among the strongest. How will his men look at him if they know he hid behind your skirts?"
Anger boiled beneath her façade. Lyanna wanted to cry out that surely they would understand. She wanted little more than to tell Jaime her father's men, the entire North, would look upon the issue with no prejudice. But even as she thought up the lies, her mind went to Brandon teasing Benjen when she last knocked him into a bank of show. By the look on her companion's face, he was aware of her realisation.
"'Tis most unfair." The impotent whisper marked little more than her disdain. "Their behaviour was odious. At the very least for that they should be punished. Were I to say I had been the one assaulted, you can count on it that no one would think twice before they were given to the pillory."
"Might be," Jaime allowed. "All the better than you've three brothers with you to aid. But he hasn't, and is unlikely to magically sprout kinsmen on the morrow." He gazed away from her, towards the crowd. "Methinks you've conquered a few hearts on this night, my lady."
Irritated at the change of subject, she was about to brush his observation away when she caught sight of Robert morose stare. "I assure you, ser, this one is a heart I would fain give away." Good gods, one would think she'd be off fornicating out in the open with the way he stared. "That is no territory I wish to step one foot in."
"I beg your pardon, are you saying you do not find Robert Baratheon eligible?" Jaime's stare bore into her skull. She kept silent. "Nay. 'Tis not true."
"You may have him if you want him," Lyanna snapped, eyes shooting mutinous daggers Robert's way. "I daresay you won't be able to tell the difference."
Stunned, her partner took a moment to digest the words. "You do not truly think yourself my match in beauty, do you, Lady Lyanna?" And it was her turn to stare at him as if he'd gone mad. Having caught her off guard, Jaime did not hesitate to savour his victory, chuckling at her naïveté.
"Fear not, Ser Jaime, your vanity far surpasses mine." The tart answer was accompanied with an innocent smile. "I daresay the day when I match your beauty is the day you match my wit."
"You had best use whatever hours are afforded to you wisely then." Jaime glanced away, she presumed towards his sister, for it was in the general direction of the King's table. "It seems we have the attention of another as well."
"Must be your unmatched beauty, ser. Dare I ask who is looking at us?" Not that it carried much import. At such gathering one came to more or less stare about. That was discounting those who came for drink.
"The King's oldest." Mischief played upon the young knight's face. "Were I to do something shocking, would you protest too much?"
"I make a point not to protest too much at aught that is shocking in nature. My brothers, however, are of different ilk." Fingers brushed at her side. She held back the desire to jump away, mildly curious.
"Only the Prince will see." One eyebrow rose. After the manner he'd abandoned her in, he deserved at least a little shock. "I swear."
"'Tis your own funeral otherwise," she shrugged in the end, figuring it could not hurt very much.
Thus his arm settled around her waist, a triumphant smile on his face. It grew even wider a mere few moments after.
Shaena snorted lightly, her hand slapping against his arm, negligible discomfort forgotten as soon as she opened her mouth. "You say this as if he is capable of being impressed with anything or anyone, for that matter. Have you forgotten? Rhaegar Targaryen has ambitions, not a heart."
"How harsh you are," he chided in return, wondering not for the first time whether Shaena had realised the crucial difference between their brother and their father. "I assure you, though, that she can do a lot more than impress him. Did you not see her when he played?"
His sister shook her head. "And what would it matter if I did?" She reached out for her cup, nearly knocking his over. "I've told you not to put them this close."
"Never you mind that. I saw her. I saw her very clearly indeed. She was weeping, Shae." Shaena started slightly, whether at the use of the old pet name or because of Lady Lyanna's reaction he could not tell. Nonetheless, he had her attention. "Not the sort of weeping your ladies do, mind, when some gallant breaks their heart. He could be impressed if he wished to, because she understands."
Bristling, the girl at his side closed her fist around the cup. "Unlike me, is that it? She understands our dear brother because somehow you know her tears mean that. That is simply brilliant, Daeron." She never took even a gulp of her drink before placing it back.
He shrugged at that. "Had you wanted him, Shae, you might have made an effort. I do not claim to know what changed your mind, but I want him to have someone who will help."
"Aye, and he has chosen Elia Martell." The smug smile on her face was enough to make him want to hurl. "Is he as concerned for you as you are for him?"
"You know, my dear, you've always been a tad mean-spirited and more than a handful, but until this day it never crossed my mind that you were a fool beside." Shaena awarded him a glare. "Scowl all you like. You know very well he worries for all of us. But he is only one man."
"You always protect him." And she always blamed him. Daeron could say little in the face of facts. "He doesn't want your stupid wolf."
"What were you thinking of when he was playing?" If she wouldn't aid, then he at least had to make her understand so she would not get in his way. "Come, Shaena, you can tell me."
"So you may mock me," she guessed. Nevertheless, she did tell him. "I was counting in my head the number of houses sworn to the current Lord Baratheon." A brief pause ensued. "I know you believe me to be heartless, so I do not make excuses this time."
"And here you are wrong. I know you to be heartless when it suits you. My stupid wolf is betrothed to Robert Baratheon, you know?" She did not react outwardly to his words but for a nod. "It all depends on how much you want the Stormlands, sister mine? You can do some good for one in your life and get what you desire, or you can make attempts on your own, and fail."
"You would aid me secure Robert?" Had it not crossed her mind that Daeron was willing to do anything for House Targaryen? He smiled sweetly and confirmed her suspicions.
"If I have to, Shaena, I shall knock him over the head and drag him to your bed." At that she muffled her reaction. "I am your brother, and if ever you need my aid, you will have it. Just as long as you remember that everything comes at a price."
He ignored the mild disappointment on her face in favour of a mouthful of mutton. It was truly well cooked. Daeron chewed thoughtfully as Shaena gathered herself for another spar. "Twas fine, they had more than enough time. To no surprise, his sister's voice returned with a vengeance.
"I would have an eye on Ser Jaime then, brother dearest. The way he sniffs around the she-wolf's skirts is sure to have a few tongues wagging. And a few fists flying. Look at them even now, deep in conversation." But Daeron, despite her advice, was looking at their oldest brother whose face showed some signs of uncertain annoyance. Holding back a smile, he shifted his attention to the aforementioned individuals in time to see Lord Lannister's son sitting up, his horn held before the maiden's face.
Lady Lyanna shook her head, as if in refusal of some offer. She pushed the horn away gently and said something he could not decipher over the breadth which separated them. Should he be even slightly worried at their closeness? Daeron was not quite certain; what he did know though was that for the time being he would keep an eye on them. Better safe than sorry.
"That look on his face," Shaena drawled, "is quite telling."
"You women," Daeron sighed in reply, "the moment a man gets a slightly out of ordinary expression on his face you think 'tis love when actually 'tis just a bit of bad food playing havoc." He laughed at the cross expression she affected for him. "Heartless women are not supposed to know anything about love, my dear. Best you concentrate on your schemes."
"I plan to, never fear." She returned her attention to the wolf and lion just as he did in time to catch sight of the eldest Stark sibling cutting into what had been up to that point a rather enthralling experience. It seemed that even if he did not exert himself, others would do it in his stead. Pleased with that much, Daeron glanced down at his mutton.
Rhaegar might not wish to listen to him, but he would be grateful later on. Of that, Daeron as certain, willing even to give up the only maiden of some interest he'd come across. Surely his efforts would be appreciated at some point.