Next Chapter 23.
Aftermath.
4th Moon. 297AC.
Westeros.
As the 4th moon arrived, so did the announcement of the Betrothal between the Prince of Westeros and the Mother of Dragons.
It brought a number of gossip with it. Those who thought it a worthy enough union, those who mourned the lost chance to join their families with that of the royal family, those who mocked the former bastardy of their future queen, and those who stewed in jealousy.
Over in the North, they celebrated the chance to have a child of the North become their Queen for the first time since Torrhen Stark bent the knee. They drank and feasted in their keeps and homes, seeing it as the beginning of great things to come for the North as well as the chance to see the dragons reborn.
Over in Winterfell, when news reached them by raven from the Lord Paramount who had begun his journey home, many were in shock while some wept at the seeming betrayal of kin.
Sansa laid in her bed, weeping at the unfairness of it all.
She was the one meant to marry the prince! She was to be a princess!!
Her! Not Lyarra!
A knock on her door startled her out of her mood as she sat up, quickly cleaning her tears as she cleared her throat.
"Come in."
She called out politely, watching as the door opened and her mother walked in.
"Sansa, I haven't seen you all afternoon, and Mordane informed me about your absence from embroidery practice. Are you well?"
The soon to be 14 name days old sniffed as she nodded.
"Of course mother, I just… felt a little drowsy and decided to rest a little longer."
Catelyn's eyes narrowed for a millisecond as she saw the swollen red eyes of her daughter as well as her very red nose which stood out against her pale Northern skin.
With a sigh, she walked forward, already knowing what was wrong.
"Wipe your tears, darling daughter. You are the first trueborn daughter of House Stark. Why do you cry?"
As soon as her mother said that, sitting on her bed, the dam broke once more as she let out a wail, falling into her mother's lap.
"It is not fair! I was supposed to marry the prince! Not her! He was my happily ever after! My knight! Why did she have to take him from me!"
Catelyn struggled to keep her face firm as she softly brushed her hand through her daughter's hair so similar to hers.
What could she say to comfort her daughter?
Who would have known things would change so much?
That girl… had lived in Winterfell all of her life, something Catelyn had detested. She had begged her husband to send the girl to Dorne to no avail.
She had lived with the stain on her marriage for 16 years… watching as she developed into a beauty that attracted many from further away. She watched as the girl took the spot her own daughter should have, as the oldest daughter of House Stark.
And now…
And now… now she would become Queen one day.
Catelyn stifled a bitter laugh.
Was this her punishment?
Her punishment for turning away and hating on a child with no mother?
Was this her punishment for wishing death on a child all those years ago? For wishing her gone from her life?
Taking the happiness from her daughter? Putting tears on her precious face??
The Seven were never cruel to her. But the Old gods…
The old gods must hate her still!
"My dear… you must not shed tears over this."
"What else can I do!"
Sansa sat up, tears falling down her face.
"Even if I pray to the maiden to break off that betrothal, it would look bad on House Stark! They would think something is wrong with me too! It's gone all wrong, mother! I should have been the one to go South! Not Lyarra! I am trueborn and she was a bastard! Now she has dragons and the prince chooses to marry her!"
Catelyn patted the girl's head.
"It would seem so my dear. What else could the King have done? Apparently the dragons answer only to her. They had to find a way to control those dragons somehow."
"And she couldn't just give it to them?! Septa Mordane was right! Bastards ruin everything! They ruin everything!"
She cried into her mother's laps once more, muffling her tears and Catelyn stifled a sigh.
No matter how she felt about the girl… it wouldn't do for her daughter to call her a bastard in public.
The repercussions alone…
"Sansa… look at me."
She spoke up firmly, holding onto her daughter's shoulders as she raised her up, staring eye to eye to the sniffling girl.
"Lyarra… she is no longer a bastard."
Sansa dabbed at her eyes with a nearby embroidered handkerchief.
"But… why not? Septa Mordane said it did not matter if she was legitimized, she was still born on the wrong side of the sheets."
The Lady of the North stifled a grimace at that. It was true, yes. But she would have to speak with Mordane and let her know not to lead her daughter astray with such talks.
It could have her in trouble.
"Listen to me, Sansa. That may be true, yes. But Lyarra is to be a member of the royal family."
The younger girl whimpered at that.
"She will have to be treated with respect. Promise me, you will not go around saying such words. It would… anger people. Keep such thoughts to yourself. Understand?"
She placed her hand on Sansa's slightly rounded cheeks.
Her daughter was slowly beginning to grow into the traditional beauty she was destined to be. Much more beautiful than Catelyn herself. Her bright blue Tully eyes glittering like a thousand stars. Her long Stark face and pale skin giving her a sort of exotic look.
Sansa nodded glumly, and Catelyn could not stand her beautiful daughter so sad and blue.
Clearing her throat, she smiled at her daughter, telling her something she just might enjoy.
"Come now, child. There are many more handsome Knights and future husbands to look out for."
"But they're not the prince. I wanted to be a princess."
"Oh, you sweet thing. The South is filled with many gallant young men. Handsome, strong, noble. Young men who, when they see you, will be so speechless at the beauty that you are."
A soft giggle escaped Sansa's lips and Catelyn counted it as a job well done.
"You will be 14 very soon. Betrothal agreements start being discussed when a maiden is 15. When your father returns, I shall bring it up with him. We shall go through the best young men out there for you, sweet girl. I hear Jasper Arryn is a very handsome and gallant young man. 17 too. A young Lord in his own right and a noble knight who goes around helping the common people while his mother acts as his regent on his behalf."
Sansa's attention was fully on her already.
"In the Reach, there's the sons of Tyrell. In the West is the Lannister boy."
Of course, Catelyn would never allow her precious daughter near the son of that imp.
"Even in Dorne, the sons of Prince Doran live."
And will never get a chance with her daughter. The licentiousness of the Dornish was so popular she would never wish that upon her daughter. After her own experience with the Dornish that led to her own husband's bastard child, who knew what kind of life her child would live through there?
She'd heard about Prince Oberyn and his dozen bastards after all!
Snapping out of her musings, she continued.
"And those are just the sons of Lord Paramounts. Granted, you deserve better than lowering yourself, but there are many opportunities out there! You need not worry about your prospects! The world is at your fingertips my dear. Beautiful and pious as you are, I am sure you will be worshipped by your future husband."
By now, Sansa's tears had already dried, having forgotten the reason she was crying in the first place as she clapped her hands in excitement.
"Oh that sounds wonderful, mother! I cannot wait for father to come home! Mayhaps we could hold a feast for him and Robb? They might be tired from travel. Food, songs and dancing! It would be wonderful!!"
She stood up, twirling around the room as she hummed a song to herself, stifling giggles as she lost herself to her world of fairy tales, gallant knights and love.
As for Catelyn, she smiled as she watched her daughter before a frown found it's way back to her face at the remembrance of why she had been consoling her daughter in the first place.
Lyarra Dayne.
As the mother and daughter duo spent sometime together, in the practice yard, men at arms sparred and practiced as they usually did.
Theon Grey's focused on the target circle a few feet away from him as he drew his arrow and let it fly, only for it to embed on the edge of the circle… much like the others.
He let out a huff, cursing beneath his breath as he threw his bow to the ground in anger, running his hands through his wet hair even as the cold air of the North blew.
It had been days since the letter from Lord Stark. The letter that brought news of Lyarra's betrothal.
He let out a scoff as he bent to pick his bow, walking over to the target circle and yanking out the arrows slowly.
The North was a cold place. The furthermost kingdom, and many saw this as a blessing. For the first time, a daughter of House Stark was marrying into the ruling Targaryen family.
For the first time since Torrhen Stark knelt, the Starks would have a say in the ruling of the Kingdom.
Not that Theon cared about that.
He didn't care if the North had gotten lucky. He didn't care that this was a boon for the North. He didn't care about those things.
He only cared about who the bride was. The bride he had hoped to have.
Lyarra was marrying the Prince.
He should have known something like this would happen—
"Argh!"
He cried out in a hiss, flailing his hand slightly as he brought it to his face in time to see a red line of blood. Not deep but certainly would hurt for a few days.
"Alright there, Greyjoy?"
Rodrik called out as he walked over to the 19 name days old, staring at his hand.
"Better get that to the Maester."
Theon sneered.
"It's just a little cut."
He yanked out the final arrow, fighting down a wince and Rodrik watched him as he tied them together.
Having watched Theon Greyjoy over the years, he believed he knew a thing or two about his emotions, no matter how fucking annoying the lad could be.
And Greyjoy had been in a mood for quite a while now.
As Theon straightened back up to leave, Rodrik spoke up.
"Better go see the Maester, lad. Wounds like that fester and become worse."
With that, Rodrik walked off leaving a frowning Theon who stared at his hand.
"It is not the wound I hope to heal."
Was all he said as he walked off with a grim look, destination being the brothel in Wintertown.
Red Keep.
Sparring Yard.
Aegon stood in the large sparring yard early that morning as the chilly morning breeze blew.
The sun hadn't risen yet due to how early it was, but it was a good time to start training his squire.
That was how Arthur had started with him. Waking before the sun and going through a number of exercises till he could build up his strength.
On one side, Gendry and Jonothor Darry sparred against each other while a couple of guards were stationed around, doing their duty of protection and watch.
As he waited for his squire, his mind was soon lost to numerous thoughts.
He was betrothed.
Never had he in his wildest dreams thought that the subject of his betrothal would bring him the kind of happiness it did whenever he thought about it.
But what else could be he but happy? When the lady that had been chosen for him was one he would choose a thousand more times as his future wife?
A chuckle escaped him even as he ran his hands through his silver hair.
He could work with it. He could work with her. His future, for the first time in a while, looked rather bright with her in it.
He cared not for what others said or would say. He cared not for the opinion of lickspittles. He was a Targaryen after all, and what he wanted, he would have.
And she was a treasure he had found in the cold North, and he planned to keep her for himself for as long as he lived.
The betrothal would be a little longer than his sister's had been.
It had been discussed, and perhaps the next year would be a better time for a wedding, especially as his sister had recently celebrated hers.
He didn't mind. He would enjoy his time as it was. It was no challenge for him.
The click clack if boots against the ground brought him out of his reverie as he turned just in time to see a small figure jogging towards him decked in slight armor made just for them.
Said figure stopped in front of him, breathing out slightly as he raised the visor of his golden helmet to a slightly tired but beaming face filled with no small amount of awe, a small dimple against one cheek.
"Good morning, your grace!"
Aegon snorted.
"Cute."
Really, the boy had an almost adorable air about him.
Sad.
He would knock it out of him soon enough.
"What are you wearing?"
He asked with a raised eyebrow, and Tion Lannister looked down at his outfit, before looking up at the tall prince who stood tall at 6'2.
"Armor, your grace."
"Not your grace. Address me as Ser while you are my squire and getting trained. Now, why are you wearing armor?"
Tion blinked, his heterochromatic eyes making him look more like the fabled owl than anything else.
"F-father had it made and fitted for me. To begin my squireship in armor worthy of a Lannister."
'Sounds like Jaime.'
Aegon thought to himself before sighing as he stared at the boy still looking at him with no small amount of hero worship.
"First of all, you won't be needing this today."
He grabbed the helmet, startling the 12 name days old boy as he removed it from his head, throwing it to the side.
Tion patted down his dark golden hair, a look of confusion on his face even as Aegon turned back to him.
"Nor will you be needing this."
He unhooked the Lannister red cloak which had the sigil of house Lannister, throwing it to the side as well.
"Or this."
He took the small, circular gold plated shield with a snort, tossing it to the other things now laying to the side.
"And certainly not this."
He finally took the well fitted wooden sword and tossed it, before looking the boy over now in light training apparel fit for practice.
The boy's mouth was ajar as he looked from his discarded things to the prince a couple of times, and Aegon was suddenly reminded of the first day he began to squire for Arthur.
He had looked much like this, just with more frustration.
"But…"
"Before we get to all that… before I let you even pick up a practice sword, you need to build up your strength and stamina. I can't have a squire fainting on me the first time he tries to swing a sword. And to build up your stamina… you are going to work for it."
He smiled darkly, and Tion swallowed.
Suddenly he missed his mother and father in Casterly Rock. He missed listening to his father tell tales of his travel. Of his mother's sweet songs and huggable arms.
He even missed his sister, Joanna! Even her bullying ways!
Impossible!
Seeing it settle in the mind of his squire, Aegon nodded before he continued.
"Now. A squire has numerous duties. You are to know the location of my armor, sword and shield. You are to ensure they are well maintained, and if need be, you are to scrub them after use."
Tion gulped at that, much to Aegon's internal amusement.
Was this how Arthur had felt with him? The bastard!
He couldn't wait to tell his betrothed about this.
His betrothed.
"You are to care for my horse when needed. Communicate with the kennel masters on that. They already know who you are. When needed, you are to dress me in my armor. Of course, that isn't truly needed except I call for you, and during tourneys, carry my flag. You didn't think being a squire was easy?"
He smiled sardonically at the boy whose shoulders had slumped.
"Becoming a knight takes a long battle of will. A number of people give up. There are knights, and there are Knights. Many people fight and protect and suddenly become knights. Then some, it takes years of practice, of trial and error. I squired for the sword of the morning when I was 12 like you, and became knighted when I was 17. A true knight will ensure his squire can take care of not just himself, but also the knight himself, before proclaiming him a knight. That is how you hear of the creation of legends like the Dragonknight, like Ser Duncan, your uncle Jaime Lannister, Like Ser Barristan, Lord Baratheon, Ser Lonmouth, Gerold Hightower, Ser Arthur Dayne—"
"Like you."
Tion cut in and Aegon paused, giving the boy an amused look.
"Me?"
Tion nodded eagerly, almost dancing on his feet.
"I watched the tourney your grace—I mean Ser. You were great! Fast and strong! You could beat anyone!"
Aegon snorted.
"But not Arthur Dayne."
Tion shrugged.
"He's the sword of the morning."
He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, and even Aegon couldn't find any fault with that.
"In any case, great knights like that started from somewhere. And I will pave that way for you. And it starts now. Everyday, before dawn, you will run 50 laps around the yard and you must complete it. It will take resilience, I know. But you will learn to build your will to see things through, as well as your stamina. After that, you shall take a bath as I am sure you will smell like a dead rat after. You eat breakfast with me. Then run off for your lessons. By noon, fulfill your squire duties and by evening, come back here and you shall be thought the basic exercises expected of a gold cloak and you are free for the rest of the evening. Till the following day. And we shall continue this, again and again and again… until you build your will, stamina and strength. And when I know you are ready to start learning the way of the sword. It may take weeks for you to build yourself up. Maybe moons. But I will tell you when the time is right. It's up to you to decide if you are ready to go through all this, as my squire."
At this point, Tion's face of hero worship had been replaced with that of despair and slumped shoulders, and Aegon smirked, ruffling the young boy's hair.
"You have to realize, I squired for Arthur Dayne. This is nothing compared to the torture I went through under him. But that torture made me into who and what I am today. It's all up to you to prove to me you can overcome this challenge, little Lion. The eyes of many are on you, and I am sure some hope to see you fail. Prove them wrong, why don't you?"
As he encouraged him, the boy's shoulders rose once more, and a determined look sat on his face as he nodded firmly.
"I won't disappoint you!"
He promised, before beginning his laps.
Aegon had been saying the truth. His father had told him of the scuffles cropping up in the Westerlands. Tion being squire for the crown prince should silence many wagging tongues, but only if he proves to be what Aegon knows he can.
He knew the boy wouldn't be able to finish 50 laps. Even he hadn't been able to. The inner sparring yard the Kingsguards used was so large and wide. But he wanted to see the boy do his best.
And he would help him along, come what may.
Maegor's Holdfast.
"Your hair is really beautiful, your grace."
Missandei commented as she brushed Lyarra's hair where she sat at her dresser, in front of a sleek gold ornamented mirror, and Lyarra smiled in amusement.
"You really enjoy calling me your grace, don't you?"
Missandei grinned.
"Of course, your grace. Lady Mopatis once thought that title would become hers and yet here we are."
"And yet here we are."
Lyarra chuckled, her eyes glittering with amusement.
"One day, I shall make sure you call me by my name alone. No titles between us."
Missandei only nodded in slight amusement.
"Of course, my Lady."
The silvery blonde shook her head in amusement.
"Besides, you shall be princess very soon, and then future Queen of the sunset kingdoms."
As she said that, Lyarra snorted.
"I don't feel like a princess. I feel more like Mother of Dragons than anything."
Speaking of, Reeva and Aegarax toddled after each other in her bedchambers as she watched them through the mirror as they breathed out smoke upon smoke.
She knew they were probably trying to breathe fire. They were already past their first moon of life and bigger than before. Of course, Reeva was still the obviously bigger one, being the seemingly older nest mate, and the calmer one still.
She smiled before looking away.
Just a few days ago, her Lord Father and Robb had left for home along with Lord Baratheon, Jon and even her Lord Uncle.
They had all headed for the Storm Lands together. Her Lord Father using the opportunity to see his sister again, and Lord Dayne going for her Aunt Allyria's wedding, happening in but a few days.
She remembered Robb teasing her about her impending nuptials and being the first amongst them to be betrothed and become a Princess, something Sansa had always wanted.
She could only imagine how the girl must be feeling when informed. Or even her Lady Mother.
For the first time ever, Lyarra suddenly wished to be in the presence of Lady Stark just to see her reaction to her betrothal to the Prince.
What would she say?
Would she be forced to play nice and treat her with respect?
In any case, she had teased Robb back, telling him not to rest easy, as now that many knew their father was open to betrothals, many would flock to him with contracts for the Heir to the North. The boy had turned green at that, much to her and Jon's amusement.
Of course, Jon himself knew his connection to her would risk the same. Thankfully, his mother and father didn't seem all that eager to betroth him to anyone just yet.
Thinking of them brought a wistful sigh out of her lips.
She was happy… but she missed their company even now.
At least she had people in the Red Keep.
There was Missandei, her loyal handmaiden. Wylla who she was slowly growing close to much to Lord Manderly's apparent excitement. There was the Queen and her fellow Ladies in waiting.
And then there was Aegon of course.
Her stomach fluttered where she sat at the thought of him and her betrothal to him.
He was her betrothed.
Sometimes she still felt it was hard to believe, and then she'd realize it was reality and ponder on how she got so lucky.
A knock on the door to her apartment brought her out of her reverie and Missandei excused herself out of the bedchamber, walking to the main door and opening it for Wylla while curtseying for her.
"My Lady."
Wylla smiled at her as she skipped into the apartment.
"Greetings, Missandei. Where is Lyarra?"
"This way, please."
She led her through the door to the bedchambers where she spotted Lyarra brushing her hands through her silvery blonde tresses.
"Lyarra!"
"Wylla. Did you bring it?"
"Of course I did!"
She dug into the small waist pouch as she chattered away, her garish yellow hair swishing in it's ponytail.
"Mind you, it was difficult to get a hold of. I only use yellow, obviously. But one of the Manderly servants was able to get the brown powdered dye and I definitely swore her to secrecy as I know we are not to let anyone know. Oh to be out and about in Flea Bottom! There are so many places—"
"My thanks, Wylla."
Lyarra cut in with amusement as she handed the small box of powdered hair dye to Missandei who took it.
Wylla beamed.
"You don't have to thank me! I am looking forward to experiencing the bathhouses. They are so fascinating!"
Lyarra chuckled as Missandei brushed the brown paint into her hair.
"Really?"
"Indeed! I have heard so much about it. As you know, there's no such thing as bathhouses in the North. Pity. I hope father listens to my advice and builds one. As I was saying, it really depends on the one you go. But I hear it is very pleasing. And lots of gossip are exchanged in the public baths."
Lyarra exchanged an amused grin with Missandei.
"I should have known. You want to hear gossip."
Wylla shrugged.
"Don't you? I mean, the common people will for sure talk about your betrothal to their so-called promised prince. Do you not want to know what they think of it?"
She wiggles her eyebrows and Lyarra snorts though a considering look appears on her face.
And besides, it had been quite a while since she was able to explore once more. This time she would have to protect her identity even further as many knew what she looked like now.
"In any case, I think it'll be wonderful being out and about once again. Even though Missandei worries someone will find out who I am."
Missandei nods but says nothing and Wylla cut in, her garishly yellow hair swinging in the two tight braids she wore.
"Lighten up, Missandei. It'll be wonderful!"
"And I'll make sure to carry my dagger while at it."
Lyarra added. While she was not suddenly the greatest warrior the realm had to offer, she could hold her own better than before, thanks to Obara and her uncle. Of course she still had a long way to go, but Arthur had promised to continue training her whenever he had the chance.
She would have approached Ser Barristan, but he was a very busy man as Commander of the Kingsguard and a member of the small council. Also, the Kingsguards were very busy people. Apart from protection of the royal family, they had other duties they carried out secretly.
Gendry's duties were more intertwined with the prince and that is how they grew close.
Being a member of the Kingsguard was something not easily gotten, and it was why many young boys and even some fair few young ladies one day wished to stand with the white cloak billowing behind them. Because of the responsibility and greatness attached to the title.
There was the attention being a Knight brought, but there was also the attention being a member of the Kingsguard brought as well.
"Wow, you look… different!"
Wylla's voice cut her out of her reverie as she looked into her mirror, slight surprise in her eyes.
She no longer had silvery blonde hair, rather she had dark brown hair in a single large braid down her back and the color had darkened her eyes further, making it almost a dark blue.
She patted her hair in curiosity.
"Do you think Aegon would recognize me if I passed him by?"
Wylla giggled.
"I think he would. I think many would recognize you. But those who have never met you won't know and they certainly wouldn't think you're Lady Dayne. After all, Lady Dayne has silver hair and purple eyes. You have brown hair and your eyes are dark. The power of hair dye."
She twirled her own yellow braids and Lyarra absentmindedly wondered just how the girl would look with her normal hair color.
"Very well then. We should find our way out now. It's past noon, and I would rather we leave now and return by dusk before many start to realize we are not anywhere in the castle."
Lyarra knew Argon would be busy as he was starting his squire's training today. Also he would be meeting with his father and spending his time tailing him.
As for the Queen, she was entertaining some visitors from Braavos. She had other things to focus on.
The trio finally snuck out the castle through one of the secret passages Aegon had shown Lyarra a while back.
The streets were as familiar as she last remembered. People going their way, traders trading, young ladies gushing at the high end jewelry store well guarded thanks to it's proximity to Aegon's Hill.
The trio paid a cart pusher who took them faster towards their destination of Flea Bottom on the east side of Rhaenys' Hill.
They walked past people, hawkers and buyers and sellers. Lyarra spotted Tir Na Nog a little further away and played with the thought of visiting before deciding against it. Perhaps later.
Yes.
Later.
"Oh, there's a bathhouse!"
Wylla chirped excitedly as she pointed at a small looking building where a bunch of people walked in and out off. Two scruffy looking men sat by the side, begging for some change and Missandei frowned slightly.
"I do not think we should go there."
"Why not?"
The yellow haired girl questioned confusedly and Lyarra understood where Missandei was coming from.
If anything, this was still Flea Bottom. A bunch of well dressed ladies leaving their belongings to bath here would just be asking to be robbed.
"Perhaps we should find the more… upscale ones?"
Wylla laughed at their worry.
"You are both being too wary! In the North, thieves who operated in daylight were immediately caught and—"
Just then, the front door of the bathhouse slammed open, startling those in the streets as three young children ran out laughing with their arms full.
"Hey! Get back here, ya fucking cunts! Thieving scum!"
A man ran out behind them, a blunt knife in hand and a look which Lyarra dreaded heavily.
The trio watched as the kids and the man ran down the street, many ignoring the commotion.
It was quiet for a second before Lyarra and Missandei turned towards the newly 15 name days old girl who chuckled weakly.
"Perhaps a more upscale one would be of… better benefit."
Next to Lyarra, Missandei let out a small sigh of relief much to her amusement.
Until Wylla spoke up, that is.
"I hear there is an upscale and beautiful one in the Street of Silks."
Wait—
"Wylla, No—"
"We should not be here, my Lady. If the Prince's betrothed is caught in such a place…"
Missandei spoke up next to Lyarra and Wylla huffed.
"Oh lighten up, Missandei. T'is just a little fun! We aren't going to the pleasure houses. We only wish to go to the bathhouses. The more private ones."
Missandei said nothing as she looked around, much like the other two were doing.
The Street of Silks was a clearly exotic and large one.
It was not just a single street. In fact, it was multiple joining of various small streets intersecting. A booming business place of pleasure houses, massage places that tended to be more… hands-on.
Brothels of varying expenses filled many areas and one could see the types that catered to the richer clients.
There were a few pubs mixed in, provocative dance places and a new one the noble men went to associate. Something about a Noble man's club.
The girls looked around with varying degrees of curiosity and slight surprise as girls in states of undress or just about transparent clothing walked around, enticing men while beautiful looking men did the same for women.
"No one can know we came here."
Lyarra said resolutely and Missandei nodded firmly, cheeks flushing slightly when a young and shirtless young man with Dornish skin winked seductively at her, causing her to quickly look away.
Wylla though, had a curious look on her face as she watched the lightly dressed women as they practically 'convinced' men into accompanying them into their various pleasure houses with only a smile or a small touch.
"Wouldn't it be amazing, being able to control foolish boys like that?"
She said mostly to herself and Lyarra snorted in amusement.
"You're 15 now. Is your grandfather already looking for betrothals for you already?"
If there was something Lyarra was grateful about when it came to her Lord Father, it was the fact that he hadn't forced her into any marriage.
She was sure Lady Stark would have brought it up a time or two with him just so she could be rid of her at some point.
Wylla shrugged.
"Not particularly, but I think it's on his mind."
She replied as they walked through the streets, arms locked together as a sort of protection amongst the three even as a small group of gold cloaks marched past, eyes looking out for danger while surreptitiously straying towards the young pleasure ladies.
"He's focusing more on my sister, Wynafryd. She's your age after all, and the heiress to the Manderly seat. He hopes to find a worthy match for her. I think he hopes for a Northern one too. Though a Southern match would not be amiss."
"Anyone he seems interested in yet?"
Lyarra questioned in curiosity while Wylla wrinkled her nose in thought.
"Not that I know of. Right now, I'm looking into stretching my time. I don't want any betrothals anytime soon. Maybe when I turn 20? Anyways, Lord Frey approached grandfather during the Princess' wedding. He left looking offended."
Lyarra frowned in slight disgust.
Everyone knew who Lord Frey was.
"Lyarra, look!"
Wylla whispered in slight surprise when the girls turned to see a beautiful young lady possibly in her early 20s. With rich luscious black wavy hair and wide brown eyes in a gown of light blue cotton make.
It was quite beautiful but something many a noble ladies would never be caught in. With a low neckline and the front rather transparent for all as her bare breasts could be seen and her nipples hard and piercing through the flimsy material which had gold jewelry pierced through much like her belly button, her skin a beautiful exotic dark like those of a Summer Islander, darker than Missandei's, almost glittery with some sort of oil rubbed on it.
Much like the area of the Street of Silk they were in, which was obviously more upscale than the lower streets of the Street of Silk, she was obviously more cared for and attractive enough to get many glances from people who passed.
She must have noticed the eyes on her as she turned towards the trio who looked startled and pretended to look elsewhere as she continued their journey, but the woman was already interested in them.
"Well what are you beautiful ladies doing here?"
He voice was rather low and husky but very attractive, her eyes glittering in amusement and no small amount of curiosity.
"Does it hurt?"
Wylla cut in with a curious look as she stared at the woman's chest and Lyarra subtly nudged her. But the woman didn't look offended, rather amused.
"The piercings, you mean? It depends on who you meet for such. The pleasure house I work for has someone who does this specifically for the girl and boys who work in it. Are you interested?"
She smiled seductively at the three girls and Missandei was the one who spoke up.
"It would not be appropriate."
The woman chuckled.
"I understand. Noble ladies like you must be pious not only in attitude, but in looks too."
Wylla's eyes widened.
"How did you—oof!"
She jumped slightly as Lyarra elbowed her again and this time, her cheeks grew red in embarrassment while the woman's smile was even more prominent.
"Do not worry, it seems you girls are here on your own. I will not spoil your fun. It is understandable you all are curious about this side of King's and, hm? Perhaps interested in learning the trade?"
Lyarra cleared her throat at that.
"Apologies my Lady, but we are not here for that."
The young woman sighed playfully.
"How sad. It would have been wonderful, corrupting more noble Ladies. It matters not though. I will keep an eye out, especially for you."
She pointed at a startled Lyarra.
"In any case, if you later decide on learning for your own pleasures, you may find me at Chataya's main brothel. Ask for Alayaya."
With a friendly enough wink, she turned and sauntered back from whence she came.
The three girls watched her for a second, Lyarra watching the older girl with an almost contemplative look in her eyes before Missandei spoke up tentatively.
"My Ladies, are we still heading to the bathhouse?"
Wylla snapped out of her reverie, perking up.
"Of course, we are! Come on!"
She eagerly dragged the other two towards their destination.
Alayaya watched the girls as they walked off with a curious smile across her face.
"Mother would be very curious."
After all, if there was one thing Alayaya knew about her mother, it was that Chataya loved to know any and everything going on. And it was even better now that Varys had been disgraced off.
Times were changing indeed.
"Wow…"
Wylla mumbled mostly to herself, not that Lyarra could fault her for it. This was her first time exploring the Street of Silk and she found herself feeling as if she had been dropped in a very strange place.
So different from the North and even the King's Landing she knew. She amusedly imagined what would happen if she sent a letter to Theon and japed that she had seen many exotic women than he ever would in the North.
He would probably not believe and then find a way to get her in trouble or something.
The bathhouse was very foreign looking. With a circular archway entrance guarded by two rather bully looking men.
As they walked through, they found themselves in a simple and small courtyard which had a beautiful looking tree with pink flowers, some slowly falling to the ground.
"Cherry blossoms."
Missandei spoke up with a fond smile as Lyarra turned towards her.
"This must be Imported. Whoever owns this bathhouse seems to be doing well. I remember them a little. Seeing them in the Summer Isles when I was but a child. I know they grow around Yi Ti as well."
Lyarra smiled softly at her handmaiden before the clearing of throat startled them a little.
"Good afternoon."
They turn to see a beautiful and foreign looking woman of obviously mixed Yi Ti heritage. Her hair packed high up on her head and her face painted, making it white with the occasional color. Her outfit was also a foreign one as her sleeves looked joined together, but they looked that way because she clasped her fingers together.
"Good day."
Lyarra stepped forward, curtseying as courteously as she could and the woman reciprocated.
"Are you here for a scented bath, perhaps?"
Lyarra exchanged a look with Wylla who shrugged.
"We… will get that then."
"Very well. We also offer other services. Massages of all kinds, the occasional acupuncture, a technique across the Narrow Sea as an alternative form of medicine, if you are interested."
Lyarra shook her head.
"Just the bath… for now."
"Of course. A public one or a private? Please be at ease here. Our Bathhouse caters to those obviously able to afford and so there will be no disreputable people or thieves. Your belongings are well protected as well."
She bowed respectfully and the trio nodded as the woman slowly led them further into the bathhouse.
It really was rather fancy. And surprisingly enough, it wasn't the fanciest one in King's Landing. There were better ones across that catered to nobles high up. Not surprisingly.
"So, about this… acupuncture, you talked about?"
She heard Wylla say and stifled an amused smile.
Wylla Manderly really was something. Of course, whatever did she expect from someone who willingly continued to dye her hair a garish yellow color?
"Keep your hair up, My Lady."
Missandei cautioned as she moved to help Lyarra roll her single braided into a bun for their scented bath.
They had chosen a public bath which thankfully wouldn't be too crowded, and of course just women.
She heard rumors of some local bathhouses open to both gender without care.
"Thank you, Missandei."
Both were wrapped in soft robes as they were directed towards their bath.
The double doors slid open and wonderful scent filtered through, Lyarra taking a small sniff in and making a noise of appreciation.
"Come over!"
Wylla who was already inside the bath waved the two girls over where she sat in the purple and pink tinged water having been talking to the other 4 women in there of varying ages from possible 30s to 40s.
Missandei and Lyarra exchanged looks before taking a step into the room as the door closed behind them.
"Well don't just stand there girls. You do not have what we have not seen multiple times."
The oldest lady there huffed and looked away and Wylla giggled while the other 3 women shook their head exasperated even as Missandei did not waste time untying her robe and getting into the water nude.
"I have never met a Summer Islander before. Is it true your people are as licentious as the Dornish?"
One of the women curiously asked and Missandei blinked at that, turning slightly towards Lyarra who shrugged and the Summer Islander spoke up.
"Not all the Summer Islanders, my Lady. I am from Naath, and we are more a peaceful people than some of our brothers and sisters who consider lovemaking and holy skill."
Lyarra cleared her throat slightly at that. Missandei seemed rather open at times when it came to discussing things like this but she had put it down to her being a former slave. But perhaps her upbringing also had something to do with it.
The oldest lady noted Lyarra's slightly flustered look even as she untied her robes and slowly dipped her toes into the large and low pool. It was rather hot but in a good way and she let out a sigh as she settled in, the occasional colorful flower floating past.
"My dear, you look old enough to be married and yet you seem ready to drown yourself what with the conversation we are having."
Her smile turned shark like, much like the other women and Lyarra blinked, startled.
"I am not married."
"As beautiful as you are! Unbelievable! Not even promised to another?"
"She is!"
Wylla chirped up as she put a grape in her mouth and Lyarra sighed.
"I am."
"Well that is wonderful! You must have done a thing or two with the young man! I remember when dear Frank kept chasing me to marry him. I needed to know he could take care of me… in all aspects."
The younger woman winked and Lyarra's cheeks turned red even as the women continued their conversation.
"If only your dear mother could hear you. She would die of a heart attack!"
"Bah! What did she expect? That I would welcome a loveless and sexless existence with my husband as she and my father have? Preposterous!"
Wylla snorted, eyes alight in interest while Missandei stayed quiet as she usually did in the presence of others.
The woman who had spoken earlier turned to Wylla with a friendly grin.
"Indeed! Advice for you young girls, most men step out of their marriage beds mostly because us ladies have been taught to be stiff in bed like logs while the men do all the work. But it is never meant to be that way! You should learn what makes your man tick! Does he enjoy some play before he gets to the deed? Does he enjoy fondling your breasts? Will he be interested in you wrapping your mouth around his manhood like the whores do?"
Wylla let out a gasp while Lyarra stifled a groan as she covered her red face with her palms while Missandei looked away, struggling with the urge not to laugh.
The older woman noticed Lyarra and smirked.
"You will be married soon, will you not? Child, if you control the marriage bed, then you control much of his attention. Of course, try not to be so controlling. Most men do not like women who try to be that way."
"Not all men of course. My Frank enjoys it when I take control sometime—"
"The point is, girls… throw your so-called piousness away when it comes to the marriage bed. You have to learn so he not only enjoys it, but you do as well and that is—"
Lyarra tuned out the women with a tomato red face. Alayaya seemed more approachable than these women right now.
They continued to talk for a while before Wylla supposedly got tired of their advices and cut in.
"What do you all think of the betrothal between the Prince and Lyarra Dayne?"
As soon as she said it, Lyarra perked up at that, curious eyes on the women.
"The Prince and the Dragon girl? Well it's not exactly our business now is it?"
The older lady waved off the question but one of the other women was certainly interested.
"I think it is something. She was a bastard, was she not? And now she gets to be queen! Who would have thought??"
She sighed wistfully and Lyarra stifled an amused smile until another lady scoffed.
"Bah! I can guarantee if the girl didn't have dragons the King wouldn't even think her worthy of his son. There are other girls after all. That Tyrell girl who does charity. There's the Crownland daughters. I heard Lord Stark has trueborn daughters too. I can guarantee the dragons had more to do with the betrothal."
Lyarra looked away at that. It was only rumors. She didn't have to be offended. But it didn't mean she wasn't.
"I hear she looks like one of them Valyrians too. Maybe that is another reason?"
"Maybe the prince likes her?"
Wylla finally cut in after throwing Lyarra a worried look and the other women looked at her strangely.
"Like? What does that have to do with betrothals? You have to get something from your significant other when it comes to noble marriages. Is that not right, child?"
They turned to Lyarra who snapped out of her reverie, nodding slightly.
"Ah… indeed."
"You girls really are as innocent as they come."
One of the women tittered in amusement and Wylla sniffed.
"It matters not. They are betrothed and that is final. The dragons will be so big one day no one will be able to say anything about them. And I stand by what I said. They must love each other."
She huffed and the women tittered at her seeming youthfulness before one turned to Lyarra.
"And what about you? What do you think? Are they truly interested in each other or is it as contractual as we all know."
They all turned to her and she played around with the water for a moment before a sly smile grew across her face.
"I think it's contractual and their betrothal is not that of love."
Wylla let out a betrayed gasp much to Lyarra's amusement as she let out a laugh while Wylla splashed water at her, Missandei watching with a fond smile and the women chuckling in amusement.
Later that evening, the girls returned back to the Keep, a day well spent in their opinion.
Wylla returned back to the Manderly Manse while Lyarra was escorted by Missandei.
Her hair back to it's original color after a simple rinse. She stretched, sighing with a carefree smile.
"I feel really light, Missandei. That bath must have been something."
"Scented baths are said to be very calming my Lady. Many enjoy it in the Summer Isles too."
Lyarra nodded agreeingnly at that.
"It helps that the scents really takes away a number of burdens."
"Vanilla and Lavender. I remember them from back in Pentos. Things like that sold out quite a lot."
"Perhaps I should try that acupuncture sometime."
She joked as she got to her apartment, a guard bowing respectfully as she walked past, entering her apartment, stopping in surprise at the sight of Argon sitting and looking into the fire where Reeva and Aegarax dozed.
"Aegon?"
The Prince looked up, his hair a little ruffled and his face a little exhausted, but his smile was the same as he set his eyes on Lyarra, moving in strides and bringing her into his arms, starting her a little.
"Oh!"
Missandei used the opportunity to head into the bedchamber as Lyarra softly ran her fingers through his hair.
"You look exhausted."
Argon chuckled lowly into her neck, eliciting shivers from her as he pecked her softly. Her mind suddenly going to the words the ladies from earlier said.
"I feel exhausted. I started training Room today. But that was not bad at all. He is a good lad, and I can guarantee he has some talent with the sword. And then the numerous workload I had to assist my father with."
"So is the life of a Prince."
She joked before slowly pushing him into a sofa, Aegon taking her with him as she sat on his laps.
"You look different today."
He idly said as he caressed her cheek, pausing for a moment and the leaning closely and taking a sniff much to Lyarra's amusement.
"You smell different too."
The silvery blonde let out a chuckle.
"Oh? Is that so? I wonder why…"
Aegon's eyes narrowed at that as he looked her over.
"Lyarra Dayne… are you keeping things from me? As crown prince I demand the truth from you. Put with it."
He stuck his nose upwards in the air and Lyarra scoffed, tapping at his nose to bring it down as she pressed a kiss against his lips for a second.
"I only spent my day with Wylla and Missandei. Wylla is… very special."
The prince smiled wryly.
"I can see that. With her hair alone, she attracts attention like flies to food."
Lyarra chuckled even as Aegon brought her to himself, their noses caressing the others softly, eyes on the other.
"I'm glad you had fun… even if it was without me."
He japes softly and Lyarra smiled.
"I did. I had fun without you. I truly loved it."
Aegon rolled his eyes, leaning forward and kissing Lyarra who eagerly reciprocated, a soft sigh escaping her as his grip tightened against her waist.
Feeling slightly naughty, she grabbed the nape of his neck, tilting him a little and biting down on his lower lip, eliciting a slight groan from Lyarra which did much to her stomach.
"What would they say if they knew you were not as innocent as you portray?"
Lyarra leaned away from the kiss with sparkling eyes.
"You took away that innocence."
She pecked him once again and Aegon hummed.
"Plenty more innocence I would love to take away."
Lyarra blinked rapidly for a moment before her cheeks burned red and she grasped at his hair a little more tightly.
"By the Gods, you are like your uncle Oberyn!"
Aegon let out a laugh as he rested his head back.
"He did teach me everything I know."
Lyarra shook her head.
"What would your mother say?"
"Lyarra… you would never expose me to my mother. You love me."
Her heartbeat stuttered at that and Aegon smirked much to her exasperation as she poked him rather viciously.
"You stupid clotpole. Why are you here anyways?"
She moved to stand up, but Aegon was feeling particularly clingy like every other day as he tightened his grip and smiled impishly.
"I have news for you."
"Oh? Is something the matter?"
"Not a bad news. I have been away from Summerhall for many moons now, and I have plans to visit in the coming moon. I would love for you to accompany me. If you would like to, that is."
Lyarra's eyes widened at that and Aegon continued.
"It is my royal seat, and it is expected for you to see it at some point."
His eyes softened.
"You are my betrothed after all. And the future Princess of Summerhall. You have a right to see it as much as I do. And you could even see your aunt along the way when we plan to return to King's Landing."
A grin grew across Lyarra's face as she softly grabbed Aegon's face between her palms, placing a soft kiss against his kiss once more. His eyes closed for a second before he opened it with a smile and she pecked him on his forehead.
"I would love to."
Aegon's answering grin was everything.
Pentos.
Healer Lianne breathed out a sigh of relief as she watched the servants of Magister Mopatis carry the Lady Aelora off the boat and into a rather inconspicuous carriage.
The young healer loved her work, but this particular one had been a very stressful one.
Taking care of a severely burnt patient who had to continuously be dosed with milk of the poppy or she would wake up in pain, screaming as loud as she could.
Not to talk of the smell that emanated from her. Her sense of smell would be damaged for a while, that much she knew.
Honestly death would be the best option for that girl. Burnt by wildfire! And she had been the furthest away from it while the others died instantly, while those close enough were burnt into nothing.
Except the Lady Dayne of course. Mother of Dragons, she was called. Perhaps it was poetic justice, a blessing from the Seven, that Lady Dayne was saved while Lady Mopatis was burnt for her evil ways.
It mattered not though. Her job was done. Thank the Mother!
She could not stand such anymore. It was time to return home to Westeros
Meanwhile, as the servants carried the unconscious Lady Mopatis back to her father's Manse, many of the looked away from the body while wrinkling their nose and struggling not to vomit as the smell wafted through their nose.
Finally in the Manse, they placed her in a bed as much as they could without touching her. In that moment, Illyrio rushed into the room only to stop at the sight of his disfigured daughter.
Her let out a silent wail as he fell to his knees, the servants quickly rushing out of the room to give their master privacy.
"Aelora…"
He whispered out as she struggled over to her side, inhaling slightly and then struggling not to vomit his dinner as the smell took over everything including his perfume.
His daughter was… unrecognizable. It was like looking at a slightly burnt husk with clumps of meat and dead skin all over. Part of her lips burnt off and he could see leftover teeth uncovered. Strands of dead hair against her head and her breathing rapid with the occasional whimpers.
"What did they do to you…"
He whispered horrifically as he stared.
"Oh how I have failed you, wife…"
He cried in sorrow, moving to grasp her hand, only to remove his in disgust at how unnatural it felt to touch her.
In that moment, Aelora's whimpers grew more and more until she let out a cry, eyes opening and once she saw her father, her cries grew louder much to Illyrio's pain.
"Daughter… l-look at you… I—I—"
"H-hu—"
"What?"
"Hurts!!"
She screamed out in pain, writhing on the bed and he scrambled back in shock even as his hired healers rushed in to try and subdue to screaming girl.
He watched in shock as they forced potions upon potions down her throat.
His shock turned to fury. This was not his daughter anymore.
The Westerosi… they brought back a… a thing… to him. It was not his daughter anymore.
And they would pay!
The one survivor who got to take his daughter and her dragons from him…
She would pay… that Dayne girl…
"She would pay…"
He whispered to himself, gritting his teeth.
Further way by the front door, Varys watched the commotion with a detached look on his face.
Slight distaste in his eyes for a second before he moved back into the shadows once more.
So here it is!
Sorry for the sort of late update. I will be VERY busy till February 15 every Monday to Saturday with no time to rest so I'm definitely calculating my update time.
Anyways, a lot happened this chapter! Catelyn's pov with childish Sansa. Remember, Sansa still doesn't know the way of the world yet. Don't hate on her. Poor Theon though. A little visit into King's Landing and meeting some characters you may or may not know. Aegon and Tion's first practice. Lol, poor Tion... He didn't know just what was up for him. Hopefully he gets used to it. Not to forget Pentos as well...
Trouble is definitely brewing alright!
Next chapter.
Elia and Lyarra discuss and the Prince and Lyarra journey to Summerhall where someone awaits them. Meanwhile, Bran learns some more, a red priestess looks into the fire and a kraken hears some Westerosi news.