A/N: Another chapter for you guy! Yay! This continues on from the last chapter, in which Titania began to ponder what god was real as questioned if the only certainty in life was death. Morbid I know.
She was still pondering the many gods when they attended the welcoming feast that night, Draco had disappeared for he was not allowed to attend, it was a merry affair and everyone was laughing, drinking and eating. She sat with the Starks a troubled look on her face that her adopted siblings had seen only a few times before, they knew not to bother her when she was like this. Perhaps what she sought wasn't a god at all, perhaps what she sought was herself. She desired to know who she was, what she would be, what her purpose was beyond prophecies. Questions many people posed to their gods. The only thing she was certain of was death, and wasn't that a curious thought, perhaps she should believe in the only thing that remained certain. Death should be her god. Like the God of the assassins of many faces.
"Valar morghulis," she said suddenly, repeating her earlier words as her eyes came back into focus and she took in the sight before her.
"What does that mean? Is it Valyrian?" Benjen asked eagerly, they all knew she came from Volantis, but her use of her mother tongue was only spoken in the presence of Draco. She noticed she had the attention from her other adopted siblings as well.
"Valar morghulis," she repeated a little louder, "all men must die."
Everyone she was looking at, her siblings, the king, the crown prince, every child, woman and man, all these lords and ladies, would die. Valar morghulis indeed.
"That's morbid," Lyanna crinkled her nose, "the first words of Valyrian that you translate for us and it's all men must die. I thought it would be something a little more exciting."
"What would you have me say?" she asked amusedly, "beside I think it best not to be giving lessons in my mother tongue so publically."
"Then just tell me one thing," Lyanna pleaded, "something less morbid than men dying."
"Ziry zokla," she responded with ease, "it means she wolf. Though it also means he wolf, Valyrian is a gender neutral language. Keep it to yourself though and don't let anyone around here catch you saying it."
Lyanna whispered the words under her breath and smiled, glad that her friend and sister was being more open about her home, though she was curious as to why. "What has brought this talk on?"
"I was wondering," she tilted her head to the side, "why we worship gods and why there are so many. Westerosi have the old gods and the Seven. In Essos men worship the Lord of Light or the Many-Faced God. So many gods it is hard to keep track."
"Who do you worship?" Eddard asked, it was common knowledge she did not worship the old gods.
"I suppose if I am forced to choose then I choose the Red God, he is the god of my homeland, or perhaps it is because the first man who was kind to me was the High Priest of the Temple of Light in Volantis. Benerro was the first one to tell me that I am not cursed, though I don't quite believe I am the child of R'hllor. Personally I think the gods are cruel and fickle."
"All this talk of gods is dull," Robert slurred, he'd been talking to some pretty serving maid before he seemed to remember his betrothed and stumbled over.
"It is not the gods that are dull," Lyanna muttered under her breath and Titania snorted in amusement at the insult.
A hushed silence fell around the room as the crown prince took centre stage, a silver harp in his hands, he played a few notes on it before his fingers plucked at the delicate stings to create a melody. He was beautiful – a strange feat for a man – with the silver hair that she herself possessed only his was a pure silver that fell to his shoulders, he had sad purple eyes that could reach into your very soul. Purple eyes she would have had had she not inherited her mother's green. He was tall and strong and held himself with a grace many sought and failed to achieve. When he opened his mouth to sing, he sang of a maiden who lost her love, a melancholic song that pulled at her heartstrings. Her eyes, like many of the ladies around her, grew moist with the sorrow he managed to emit in his playing. He was a skilled singer and played the harp with such love that it was clear he had spent a long time learning how to play.
"It seems our sisters are girls after all," Brandon teased as he saw the tears, "they have fallen under the spell of the crown prince, like all women."
"I'll show you a spell," Titania muttered harmlessly, while Lyanna poured her cup of wine over her brother's hair. She stormed out of the room while Titania was left to hide her laughter behind the sleeve of her dress. Brandon chased after her. "To think he was worried about me making a scene."
"There is time yet," Benjen grinned at her, "I'm sure you will find some way to leave a mark on this tourney."
"You know me so well," she laughed this time.
"He's watching you," Ned muttered quietly at her side.
"Who?" she asked as she looked up and she found herself exhaling softly as she met the purple gaze of the crown prince. He was indeed watching her like a hawk. His eyes widening slightly as he realised he had been caught, but instead of the distrust and disgust that was usually present when people saw her strange eyes, she saw only curiosity and intrigue. She looked away, confused at his reaction to her and politely excused herself from her brothers.
She wasn't aware that she was followed out of the hall, had she known she would've been she would've asked her brothers to escort her back to her tent, but it wasn't until she was grabbed and pushed against a wall that she realised. She cried out as the stones dug painfully into her skin, her mind trying to make sense of what was happening. She only began to struggle when she felt something hard pressing into her belly and the stench of sweat and ale reached her nose.
"You're so pretty," the slurred voice of Robert Baratheon whispered in her ear and she cringed in utter revulsion. "I've never seen a woman like you before," she went to punch him but he grabbed her hand with a careless chuckle, "I've heard what they say about you. They say you're cursed," his hand slipped under her skirts, "I've never been with a cursed woman before."
"Get off me," she snarled, twisting and turning, uncaring how the sharp rocks cut into her as long as she could get him off of her. "You're drunk and you're to wed my sister," she cried, if he didn't release her soon she would use her magic. Unwilling to reveal her magic or not, it always protected her. She opened her mouth to scream but he covered it with his hand, laughing as though it was a game to him, she could feel her magic rise within her. She glared at him, her eyes glowing ominously with power until her magic settled down within her, she panicked then. Her eyes going wide and wild as she bucked and squirmed, trying desperately to call her magic to the surface. Draco, she thought desperately, Draco! She almost screamed the name of her protector out loud when a voice cut across them.
"I believe the lady told you to get off," the voice was sharp and the authority behind it was clear, but it was not spoken in Valyrian. It was not Draco who had come to her aid.
"She's just playing," Robert laughed again but didn't move away from her.
"Your advances are unwelcome, leave Baratheon before I'm forced to bring you before my father," the threat and anger was clearly shown and this time Robert turned to face the intruder.
"Your grace," he stammered backing away from Titania quickly, and rambling an apology of some sort. "She came on to me, I swear it," he said finally, "said how she was jealous of my betrothal to her sister. Said she should be the Stark I wed not Lady Lyanna."
She breathed deeply, she had fallen to her knees the moment he had released her, her eyes still wide and in shock but anger was quickly replacing her shock. She rose to her feet, her heart finally calm as she steeled her resolve, her hands clenched. "Shows how much you know," she sneered hatefully, angered that Draco had not helped her though he would be watching, "I am not a Stark, I'm a Gryffindor, you pompous buffoon. I would not desire to wed you even if you were the last man in all of Westeros. And I will be dead before I see Lyanna wed to you. Bastard!" she finished, slipping into her mother tongue in her anger.
Robert didn't seem to know what to do with himself and under the power of her resolve he crumbled. He had thought her silver-black hair was strange, but Ned had introduced her as his sister, not of this House Gryffindor. The prince glared at him, a murderous look in his eyes and he knew he would find no mercy from the usually kind prince. He took a step back, excusing himself with a mumble of slurred words, he could only hope that the memory of tonight would fade into nothing.
"Forgive me my lady," Prince Rhaegar said once Robert was out of sight, "I had noticed he followed you out of the hall, I should have stopped him. Ale and male bravado often do not mix."
"There isn't anything to forgive," she mumbled feeling shy under his piercing gaze, "you're not the one who tried to force yourself on me, your grace. I should've asked Ned to accompany me back to my tent." The night is dark and full of terrors, R'hllor has certainly proved that much to me tonight.
"Then allow me to accompany you in his stead," he held his arm out to her a charming smile on his lips, "Ser Arthur and I shall not allow any more harm to befall you."
"Certainly not," Ser Arthur said stepping forwards from where he had stood behind his friend, "we can't resist a damsel in distress. It's all for selfish reasons of course, it bolsters our male ego to escort a pretty lady."
Her mouth opened and closed a few times as if she unsure what to make of the white cloaked man, she frowned, her lips pursed slightly before she smiled, "you're very strange." She settled with strange because she honestly didn't know what to make of him.
"You wouldn't be the first to think that my lady," Prince Rhaegar told her with a smile as Ser Arthur protested. "Shall we?" he held his arm out to her and, with only a brief pause of hesitation, she took it. "I have yet to learn the name of the beautiful young maiden I saved, would you do me the honour of telling me?"
"Titania," she told him cautiously, remembering Bran's words to stay away from royalty, "of House Gryffindor."
"I'm afraid I am not familiar with that house," he confessed curiously.
"You wouldn't be," she responded with a shrug, clearly not willing to say more on the matter.
Rhaegar was pleasantly surprised, since his wife's barren status had become public knowledge, he had women flocking to him and eager to tell him of their ancestry and power. Take Cersei Lannister, she was forever dangling her name in front of him, but he wasn't interested in the girl or her father's power. He knew by the silver in her hair that she was of Valyrian decent, certainly her slip into High Valyrian was proof of that, and yet his father's envoy to Volantis was unsuccessful when searching for a noble lady for him to marry when he came of age. Was she from Volantis? He wanted to ask but he didn't want to appear rude.
"Is House Gryffindor from Essos then?" Arthur asked and Rhaegar was grateful for his friend's insight.
"House Gryffindor's ancestral home was Valyria," she told him, "after the Doom my ancestors have lived in Volantis. But that's not the reason you haven't heard of my house. I'm the last Gryffindor. My parents were murdered when I was a babe and my maternal aunt left a lot to be desired. I'm a ward of the Starks now. It's a shame really that a house as old as mine will die with me."
"Do you not plan on being married? Having children?" Rhaegar asked gently wondering if he was encroaching on a touchy subject.
"Oh I'd like to," she responded with a hint of longing, "I love children and I've always wanted a family of my own. But people avoid me because of my eyes, they say I am cursed, but I don't think I am. The high priest at the Temple told me they are a gift from the Lord of Light, he also said I would be the mother of a very important child. So I guess someday I will have a child."
"Did he tell you the name of the child?" Rhaegar asked suddenly feeling light headed. The dragon must have three heads, he thought eagerly, she has fire and ice within her. A woman born of fire but raised in ice. A song of ice and fire.
"I can't remember, is it important?" she asked curiously, green eyes narrowed, "you have a child don't you your grace?"
"I do," he nodded a fond smile forming on his face and a twinkle appeared in his eye, "a girl, Rhaenys, she is a year old."
"And she has her daddy wrapped around her little finger," Titania laughed and smiled at the prince, "I think you are a great father."
"How would you know that?" he asked, watching as a heartache welled up within her eyes.
"Because whenever I picture my father, he has the same look upon his face as you just did," she tells him, her voice soft and quiet, "do you want more children?"
"At least two more," he told her giving her a piercing look that she did not want to understand.
"I'm sure, should you marry again, your new wife would be more than happy to give Princess Rhaenys siblings," she could imagine three silver haired children running about, laughing and playing, and Rhaegar happily chasing after them. It made her wonder about her own father, would he have played games with her?
"My second and third child," he responded with a fire in his eyes and longing in his voice, his tone huskier than before as he contemplated her.
They arrived at Titania's tent where Draco and Brandon were waiting, the latter of the two told her off for wondering off alone and thanked the prince for escorting her, though his tone was a lot icier when addressing the prince. Draco remained ever the silent presence, though he caught her eye and she read the apology within them. She nodded to him and smiled, accepting the unspoken apology as she always would.
"I wish you very good night my lady," he grabbed her hand, stroking his thumb across the pale skin with tender care before raising it and pressing his lips against it. He lingered far longer than appropriate and his darkened eyes bore into her own as if to plead with her. What he was pleading for she did not know. Behind her she heard a snarl and knew Draco found the prince's behaviour to be less than gallant.
"Goodnight, your grace," she responded unsurely, stepping away from him watching as he sighed.
"Will you be watching the joust my lady?" he asked her suddenly as though unwilling to let her go.
"Brandon will be enlisting so I suppose I shall have to," she smiled, "why do you ask?"
"I am to participate, I just wondered if you would watch," he smiled in return hoping that Brandon wouldn't be the only one she watched. He nodded to her, Draco and her brother and began to walk away but hesitated at her voice.
"Oh, your grace," she called suddenly as if remembering something, but her eyes were narrowed and eerily perceptive, as though she were challenging him. "The name of child, I just remembered, it was something to do with Azor Ahai. Though I don't think I'd name my child that in all honesty."
Her nose crinkled in an adoring fashion and she left Rhaegar standing there in favour of her bed. The prince did not move for a long time, his eyes wide and a wildness to them as he connected what she had said to what he already knew. The dragon must have three heads, he thought, she is to be the mother of Azor Ahai, the prince that was promised. She's just a girl, a tiny thing, he thought trying to convince himself he should not bother himself with such a young girl. But even as her age bothered him he felt desire pooling in his stomach.
"Who is Azor Ahai?" Arthur finally asked.
"He is the prince that was promised," Rhaegar admitted and suddenly he knew he would have Titania as his bride. Saying it out loud had made it real. He swallowed thickly and tried to will his arousal away, but he could not, not when the girl was so pretty and definitely not when she practically admitted that she would have his heir. Though she didn't know what she was truly admitting to.
"Then you will…" Arthur trailed off, his gaze slipping to the tent Titania had slipped into, "will you tell her the truth?"
"I do not know, she's just a girl and I don't want to fill her head with ideals and fantasies."
"For all her innocence," Arthur said finally looking at his best friend, "she seems to know a lot about the cruelty of the world. I doubt she would fill her head with delusions of grandeur."
"What do you mean?" his brow furrowed in confusion as he turned away from the tent and began to make his way back to the chambers he was given.
"Her eyes, they hold a haunted look beyond their strangeness, she said she was the last one of her house and from Volantis at that. How did she get here? With the Starks no less? Did you see her blonde companion? There was a familiarity between the two, something beyond that of friendship. There is a lot of distance between Winterfell and Volantis. I just wonder what she has suffered is all."
Rhaegar hadn't considered that, he'd been too caught up in the prophecy, of dragons and promised princes. "I shall have to take that into consideration," he told Arthur thoughtfully. He clearly saw the difference between a standard knight and a Kingsguard, his friend had seen the smallest of detail and he hadn't. He wondered at the blonde that had been present and began to question just what his relationship was with Titania. The thoughts of anything romantic between them unsettled him so much that he had to walk away, lest he do something to damage what bond he could create with the girl.
A/N: So... a lot of information given there, and if you are wondering just why Titania told him some of her history and of Benerro's words, well it wasn't to move plot forwards, nor to create a mary-sueish connection between Rhaegar and Titania. It has been done that way for a reason. (If any of you figure it out I will do a Rhaegar/femHarry one shot as a congratulatory gift.) Rest assured, romance between the two won't come until much later.
I like Arthur... I don't why, but I do.
Please review!