Chapter 1: Where the Old Gods Rule
"The old gods rule these lands," Alys Rivers swept her hands wide, motioning all around her. "From the stars above," her delicate fingers swept towards the dark sky, glittering with dim sparkles of light, "to the roots below the earth." She reached down, brushing green blades of grass before plucking one out of the ground. She held it up for all of them to see. "Every river and stream, tree, stone, and leaf have a spirit in it. The gods are numerous, nameless, and all around us. We are formed from the gods; fire, air, water, and earth, into bone and blood, and one day, we will return to them to be formed once more." She knelt down to the eye level of two little girls with green eyes and chestnut hair, and a young boy, his crippled, twisted foot jutting out awkwardly to the side, bound tightly. "They are a part of us and we of them. They can reveal to us truths that no one else knows if only we care to listen." She put a hand to her ear just as a breeze rustled the leaves of the surrounding woods. "They're speaking now. Can you hear them?"
"I can't hear anything!" The boy frowned.
Alys smiled, brushing his brown hair from his face as she drew close. "You must learn to listen little Larys. It does not come without practice." She turned her bright green eyes toward the identical pair of girls. "We are the blood of the first men. All of you can learn the old gods' speech, and much more in time. But you must first learn how to listen, and grow the strength to pay their price."
"Their price?" One of the girls learned away, curling into her sister for comfort, even as the other stared eagerly forward.
Alys' face darkened in the shadow of the growing night, framed by her coal black hair. "Nothing asked of the gods comes without a price. They can not form something new from nothing." Her fingers brushed over her midsection. "Bone and blood must be paid. But it is worth it Deidre-"
"Dyana! Deidre! Larys!" A booming voice echoed through the trees of the massive Godswood.
"Here Harwin!" Dyana called back, her wide toothy grin flashing towards the owner of the voice beyond the trees.
A tall lad, on the cusp of manhood, lumbered out of the bushes, panting. "I've been looking for you everywhere!" He scowled. "All three of you missed supper, and Father is blaming me!"
"We're sorry," Deidre stood up, twisting her skirt nervously. "Alys was just taking us on a walk around the Godswood. We were planning to be back before supper, but," she glanced at Larys and Dyana, both casting her wary looks. "I kept asking a lot questions about different flowers and herbs. And the weirwoods. Alys was just telling us more about them."
Harwin cast a suspicious look at the wet nurse as she rose with a grace that seemed supernatural. "Well, Father wants you back in time for nightly prayers in the Sept."
Alys let out a low, sultry chuckle as she shook her head. "Oh, my lordly brother is tender is he not? With his bed time rituals and wishes up to his Seven Gods. Perhaps he would consider letting the children pray her; the old gods do not demand such punctuality, nor for rehearsed honeyed words."
Harwin frowned. "I don't make the rules, I just enforce them." He focused his blue eyes on his three siblings. Alys sighed. Strong and brave, her nephew, but little in the way of independent thought. "And help keep you three in line. Now come on, let's leave Aly to her trees and get you lot to the Sept before Father has my hide. Then we'll find you something to eat in the kitchens after."
"I want to stay and listen to Alys," Larys glared at his brother as Harwin grasped his arm and began to help him up.
"Me too," piped Dyana, a pout forming on her lips. "Septon Garet is mean. Alys is way nicer." Deidre, too shy to voice her opinions, just drew her knees to her chest, making no effort to get up. If Harwin was so determined, he'd have to carry the three of them back.
"Peace, my little ones, and listen to your brother." Alys smiled. "The old gods have more patience than your Seven. They'll be time enough to walk with them on the morrow." Her green eyes almost glowed as she looked at Harwin. "Good night, my young knight." Harwin stared at her, perplexed as she turned and with out near a sound, melted into the shadows of the woods to walk with the old gods alone. An odd one, Aunt Aly. Too much mystery, not enough transparency. He could never predict her actions, not with any other certainty as he could predict the length of the next winter.
Reluctantly, Deidre and Dyana stood and brushed off their dirty dresses best they could, while Harwin hauled Larys up on his back with ease. "Come on you grumpkins, before Septon Garet grows too sour." His eyes twinkled as he laughed, "First one to the Godswood gate gets an extra sweet before bed." With that, Larys riding on his back, he set off in a full sprint, Larys grinning happily at the prospect of having an extra sweet.
"No fair!" Dyana shrieked, yanking up the skirts of her dress to run after him. Deidre, knowing she had no hope in catching her older mountain of a brother, slowed her steps and cast her gaze around. With Alys and the others gone, she could hear the sounds of the Godswood, the birds chirping a little way away, the rustle of the leaves.
She dug her toes into the damp earth below and closed her eyes. She held a hand out and felt a cool breeze whisper through her hair. Following the scent of pine, oak, and decaying earth, she let her heart guide her, and when she blinked open her eyes at the feeling of rough bark beneath her fingers, she smiled.
She grinned as she sat on the half wall next to the gate, kicking her bare, dirty feet while her siblings emerged from the shadow of the Harrenhal Godswood into the torch light.
"You little woods witch," Harwin laughed as he came to a stop in front Deidre, Larys groaning in defeat. Dyana tore after him in a fury, cackling when she saw Deidre standing in the entrance to the courtyard. "We won, we won! I'm gonna get a honey cake!"
"No!" Larys whined. "You don't get something if I don't! We were here before you!"
"Only Deidre gets something, she got here first fair and square." Harwin settled the squabble, but then he sighed as he took in Deidre's appearance, hair windswept with a leaf caught up in it, scratches peppering her arms and legs, mud splattered on the hem of her dress.
"What?" Deidre frowned, her brilliant green eyes wide in worry.
"Nothing." Harwin shrugged. He shifted Larys on his back and motioned with his head to towards the nearest castle entrance. "Come on woods witches, we're gonna be late."
"Hey!" Dyana cried as both brothers cackled, Harwin running towards the door.
Deidre blushed and brushed off her dress as she slipped off the wall to follow. Holding hands, she and her twin skipped at a more leisurely pace towards the lit castle doorway. "Did you take a shortcut again?" Dyana whispered.
"Aye." Deidre nodded.
"You'll need to teach me how to do that."
"Well, all you need to do is listen to earth, like Mama's people do in the Neck, and find a good tree to climb…"
Deidre scrounged amongst the bushes at the base of the cliff face, searching only for the halest of berries and most vibrant leaves. The sweetness would be much welcomed, she knew, but it was not for herself she sought out these sweet treasures.
"Deidre, Rhaenyra is coming in!" Alicent's soft voice barely registered in Deidre's ears above the massive air shifts and cries of a dragon. Snapping off her sprig of choice gently, so the whole plant would not perish from her harvest, Deidre put the branch in the pouch on her belt with care as to not crush the berries or tear the leaves. Snatching a few extra berries off the bush and popping one into her mouth, Deidre backed away from the brush on her knees and then pushed off the ground, taking only a second to haphazardly brush the dirt off her skirt before she scurried back over towards the wheelhouse they'd come down in.
Neither Alicent nor Ser Gerald Westerling paid her mind, too busy beholding the golden dragon Syrax making her landing in front of the Dragonpit. Rhaenyra eased herself down from the saddle with practiced grace, smiling as she brushed a gloved along the dragons muscled neck. Deidre was entranced by Syrax's eyes. Blue or green, she'd never been able to quite tell after all the years she'd stared into them. Such a small part of the beast, not the trait that most were drawn to, yet so vulnerable, and the window to such a strong presence, yet such an alien one, it was almost-
"Look out Lady Strong!" Ser Westerling's warning came with the sharp thwack of a dragon keeper's rod blocking her a little too forcibly from the dragon. As she stumbled back, the wind knocked out of her, a rebuke came in Valaryrian from the younger of the two dragon keepers that had emerged to heard Syrax back into the dragon pit.
Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes at the boy and snapped something in her mother tongue at him. The older dragon keeper held a hand out in a placating gesture, replying to her in an apologetic tone before he directed his protégé to step out of Deidre's way.
"Come on." Rhaenyra smiled at her friend as she rested a hand on her dragon's large snout, before turning back and petting her mount lovingly, as if Syrax was simply a horse and not a giant fire breathing beast. Try as the princess might, her closest companions had never been able to see her beloved Syrax as much else. Deidre slowly approached, never breaking eye contact with Syrax as she raised a hand slowly, biting back the surge of unease that came natural when presented before a beast that could end her with one snap of it's jaws. Rhaenyra's steadying presence and perhaps Syrax's familiarity with Deidre after she'd followed the princess for so many years kept the dragon from lashing out. Finally, Deidre felt smooth warm scales beneath her fingers as her hand came in contact with Syrax's snout.
As she continued to study Syrax's eyes, the beast holding her own gaze, her fear began to wane. That magnetic, alien mind brushed against her own, twin curiosity merging. It was so strange, but strong, like it could consume her just as easily as the creature's jaws could.
"We need to get back to the keep!" Alicent called from the steps of the wheelhouse. "Or you'll be late for your father's council meeting, remember Rhaenyra?" Dear Alicent, Deidre thought. She did not always remember that the Targaryens answered to neither gods, nor men—and who put a number on time as men did? It had been long since Deidre realized that Rhaenyra, and all the rest of her pale haired kin, arrived exactly when they meant to.
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes but smiled fondly at Alicent's henning. "Very well." Deidre made sure to withdraw from Syrax as Rhaenyra did, knowing the dragon would not be as forgiving of her presence without her rider near.
The princess linked arms with her handmaid as they walked back over to the wheelhouse, Rhaenyra's riding leathers brushing against her own silk skirts.
"You know, Syrax is almost big enough to saddle two." She raised her brow knowingly as she grinned.
Deidre's stomach twisted in discomfort. "I…would have to think about it. And I don't know how Father would feel about me flying."
"If I wanted you to go, he'd have no choice but to say yes." Rhaenyra grinned at her. It was meant as jest, and Rhaenyra did not see the threat that could be laid there if Deidre did not know she had the princess' friendship. But it would be foolish to pretend that if Rhaenyra meant it, she could do it without an utterance of protest from Lord Lyonel.
Deidre glanced at their feet as they walked. "I'm going to have to think still."
"Very well," Rhaenyra sighed as she pulled away from Deidre to pull off her leather riding gloves and converse with Ser Herald. Deidre made quickly for the wheelhouse, passing Alicent who made way for her on the steps with a concerned expression. Deidre sat down and stared at her skirts, bunching her hands in them restlessly as she waited for other two girls join her.
"If Deidre doesn't want to join me for a flight, perhaps you would Alicent," Rhaenyra directed at their other friend as the two girls climbed the steps to the wheelhouse.
"I'm quite content to be a spectator, thank you," Alicent replied with a smile, deflecting the princess's request with much more grace then Deidre could ever mange. It came to Alicent effortlessly, just as boldness came effortlessly to Rhaenyra. They were a perfect match to one another, Deidre thought.
Deidre studied her hands the rest of the way to back to the keep as the other girls indulged in court gossip, fiddling with the twin rings on her right hand, silver and gold circlets set with small glass stones preserving ghost orchid blossoms within.
How absolutely wondrous would it be to fly, to soar on the back of such a powerful beast, but just as things take flight, they must always come down. And try to fly too close to sun, defy the way the gods intended, and…
"Deidre!" Deidre startled to see the princess and Alicent already out of the wheelhouse, Rhaenyra frowning impatiently while crossing her arms. "I want to go see my mother before I attend my father at council. Don't hold us up!"
"Of course," Deidre half stuttered. She grimaced apologetically, turning red as she hurried out of the wheelhouse to catch up with her friends.
"We wouldn't be rushing if we'd headed back to the keep sooner." Alicent frowned.
"Never mind that." Rhaenyra pouted as she linked arms with Alicent and Deidre. "Let's just go. It isn't as though much happens there in the first hour of the Small Council meeting. I swear, my feet fall asleep for wanting to lie down and nap while they jabber on about cattle and granaries and road construction."
They girls chatted inanely about nothing and everything as they walked through the corridors and courtyards of the Red Keep towards Maegor's Holdfast.
Numerous maidservants, the midwives, and maesters bustled about the Queen's rooms as the girls entered, paying them no mind. "Ah Rhaenyra!" Queen Aemma called out to her daughter with a smile, rubbing her belly swollen with child as she fanned herself on her divan. "You know I don't like you flying when I'm in this condition."
Rhaenyra rolled her eyes but smiled back as she approached her mother, her companions hanging back as she sat with the queen. "You don't like me flying in any condition."
Alicent lingered in the doorway of the Queen's chamber, too proper to enter without invite or reason. "Your grace." She gave a small curtsy and practiced smile to the queen.
"Good morrow Alicent," the Queen polity answered back. Her smile widened a bit when she shifted her gaze to Deidre, "and Deidre, you look just filthy as Rhaenyra." She glanced at her daughter, her mouth turning down. "You didn't make her ride Syrax with you? Is the creature even big enough to saddle two yet?"
"I did no such thing!" Rhaenyra pouted, tilting her head at the queen.
"But you would try." Aemma raised her brows knowingly at her daughter while rubbing her swollen stomach. Deidre and Alicent exchanged a glance, giggling at Rhaenyra's increasingly sour expression.
"She didn't my Queen." Deidre came beside Rhaenyra and dropped into a tiny curtsy, smiling all the way.
Aemma smiled fondly at Deidre before turning towards Rhaenyra. "I know that in truth. Despite her fire, she's always been a good daughter and loyal friend."
Rhaenyra's lilac eyes seemed to light up at her mother's praise and her scowl melted away into a brilliant smile.
"I have something your Grace." Deidre dug in the pouch on her hip and presented the raspberry bush branch to the queen, the leaves a deep green and berries a vibrant red. "We never have leaves in the gardens green enough, and I know how much you enjoy the tea and that it helps with the baby."
Aemma grinned and reached a hand out to Deidre which the girl took eagerly. "Bless you child. Always so kind and helping Rhaenyra watch out for me." Deidre felt a warmth in her chest as Aemma gave her hand a long and firm squeeze. Her Grace had always been kind and gentle to her, and Deidre admired her greatly. "Give the sprig to Maester Mellos and I'll ask him to prepare it for me this afternoon. Thank you truly." Aemma relinquished Deidre's hand and leaned back on the divan with a deep sigh. "That's just what I needed." She looked thoughtfully down at her bump and rubbed it slowly.
Deidre and Rhaenyra exchanged a look as they frowned. "Is everything alright, Mother?"
"Yes, Rhaenyra, everything is fine."
Not satisfied with her mother's answer, Rhaenyra furrowed her brow and began to further interrogate her mother on her condition. Growing a bit uncomfortable with the personal conversation, Deidre turned aside and approached Grand Maester Mellos, sat across the room at a desk, where he studiously took notes on parchment.
"Maester Mellos."
The old man looked up from under thick silver brows. "Ah, Lady Deidre." He eyed the plant she held out to him. "More raspberry leaves for the queen I take."
Deidre nodded as he took them in hand and then looked them over. "Yes," he hummed with approval, a little grin tugging at his lips. "These should be fine for me to use in a potion to make her more comfortable. Thank you." And with that he turned back to his parchment, mumbling to himself.
Deidre then turned back to the queen and the princess. "Now, go wash yourself, you stink of dragon." Aemma smiled at her daughter as she nudged her with her foot. Rhaenyra smiled at her mother fondly. The Queen turned her Arryn blue eyes towards Deidre and raised her brows as she looked her up and down. "You as well, child. You're filthy."
Rhaenyra snickered as she reached up and picked a leaf out of Deidre's hair. "At least, I haven't dressed myself like a bramble."
Her cheeks coloring in embarrassment, Deidre scrunched her nose and stuck her tongue out at Rhaenyra in a childish attempt to get her back. Rhaenyra simply cackled in return.
Aemma let a small laugh out and shook her head at them. "Off with both of you." They both gave her curtsies of respect before leaving the queen to rest amongst her bevy of attendants.
They met Alicent still standing awkwardly in the door way. Her face had a placid smile on it, but it didn't reach her eyes. Her eyes didn't twinkle the way they normally did when she genuinely smiled. Deidre frowned. She'd seen more of those forced smiles as of late from her friend, since the death of Alicent's mother a few months earlier.
"As much as I envy you two going to lessons with Septa Marlow, I have a small council meeting to get to." Rhaenyra smiled and raised her chin slightly in self importance. Deidre and Alicent smiled and bid their friend farewell before she left them for more important matters.
Deidre and Alicent chatted as they walked towards the solar where the septa often taught instructed them and the princess. "Are you not going to follow the queen's instruction and clean up before we attend lessons?" Alicent frowned. "Septa Marlow is always cross when you or Rhaenyra come to lessons spoiled."
Deidre shrugged, lazily brushing dust off her skirt as they walked. "She sees it often enough that I'm used to her censure." Truth be told, Deidre enjoyed having a fine coating of earth on her skirts and leaves caught in her hair. As improper as it might be for a high-born lady, the dirt made her feel closer to her mother, whom she'd never known, to Alys, whom she'd not seen in the years since she'd been back to Harrenhal, to Dyana, who'd returned to the earth and the gods near on five years ago. The filth that others saw…well, Deidre saw life. She saw love and warmth, rebirth and warm farewells, she saw home. And she would not let anyone take that from her with cursory glances, and offhand remarks.
Of course Septa Marlow grew sour as usual at Deidre' disheveled appearance, especially next to Alicent, whom was always impeccably groomed. The Septa grew even more sour as the hour passed, and Rhaenyra didn't bother to show up for lessons, even though the King should have released her from council by now or sent a servant to say otherwise. She ended up releasing her two present charges early, instructing them to continue to study the history of Dorne.
Deidre convinced Alicent to study with her out in the Godswood, since the weather was so pleasant. The two girls entered the small garden surrounding the heart tree, Alicent heaving a thick history of Dorne while Deidre carried her sketch book, charcoal, and blankets to sit upon. "Why must I be the one to read while you get to draw to your hearts content?" Alicent asked as she gracefully lowered herself to the blankets and arranged her skirts around her.
"You know I learn far better listening to you read it than trying to slog through the letters myself." Deidre pleaded as settled herself at the base of the tall weirwood nearby. She smiled. "You always have a way of making the history come to life. You're a natural storyteller."
Alicent slightly colored. "You're flattering me." A tiny smile curled her lip though as she obligingly opened the thick tome to where their lessons had left off.
"It doesn't count as flattery if it's the truth." Deidre smiled back. Alicent only hummed gently in acknowledgement and began to read.
The light came back to her eyes as she became absorbed in the text, her gentle voice lilting with inflection, rising and falling as the action demanded as if she was a bard. Deidre felt a warmth in her chest to see Alicent's courtly guard come down. Reading had always been one of her favorite activities.
Alicent said her mother often had read aloud to her and her brothers when they were younger, Alicent herself had read aloud to her when she'd been abed with fever before her passing.
As Deidre listened to Alicent's animated reading of Princess Nymeria's meeting with Mors Martell, their marriage, and the burning of her ships, she put words to page, sketching the fierce Rhoynish ruler and her Andal husband out in shades of black and gray with a burning hull and dunes of sand in the background.
When Alicent finished the passage, she scooted her way closer to Deidre in curiosity as the other girl finished her work. She grinned in delight as she leaned in and studied the sketch. "Your sketching as grown impeccable."
Gently wiping any excess dust that might smudge the picture, Deidre smiled back at Alicent. "Only because there is such a wonderful story teller that can sort through all those thick texts in our lessons for me."
Alicent looked down at the praise and picked at her fingers. "It's just reading aloud."
"And you're far better at it than I." Deidre tore the page out of her book with care and then handed the parchment to Alicent. "For the great lady mummer."
Alicent shook her head. "You don't have to. I already have so many of them."
"So you'll have another." Deidre proffered the drawing towards Alicent. The other maiden pursed her lips a moment before smiling and taking the page, carefully folding it up for safe keeping and tucking it in the pages of the great tome.
"There you are!" Rhaenyra's voice called out across the Godswood as she came into site, trudging towards them with a scowl. "I thought you'd been in lessons with Septa Marlow. But of course, when I tracked her down, she was no help in finding you at all!"
"She released us for the day to study for tomorrow." Alicent replied. "We're continuing the history of Dorne."
"I don't know why we even have study Dorne. It's not a part of the realm." Rhaenyra crossed her arms with a scowl, the all too fresh memories of the Dornish Wars still burning against her skin with an indigence that Deidre did not think was hers to claim. None of them had been alive then.
"My father says its important to know the history of your neighbors for diplomacy," Alicent replied. She opened the history book back to the passage she'd began at. "I was just about to review with Deidre. We'll go over it again for you Rhaenyra."
"Fine," Rhaenyra huffed. She had a rather distant and stony demeanor as Alicent read the passage again, asking Deidre questions along the way. The princess laid her head down Alicent's lap, silent as the other girls studied.
"Alright Rhaenyra, you're turn." Alicent nudged Rhaenyra with her leg. "Where did Nymeria land and whom did she take to husband?"
"Dorne…and a man."
"Did you not read this or listen to us at all?"
"I did!"
"Then what was his name?"
"Lord something."
Deidre tuned out Rhaenyra's and Alicent's bickering as she put her charcoal to a clean page and began another sketch. Recalling Syrax's massive form, she traced out her shape, wings spread wide in flight.
"You're worried about something." Deidre looked up to see Alicent staring down at Rhaenyra hard.
"No, I'm not." Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, fiddling with pendant on her neck, one Deidre hadn't recalled seeing before.
"You're always like this when you're worried." Alicent raised her brows at Rhaenyra.
"Like what?"
"Disagreeable." Both Deidre and Alicent replied, but the former turned her attentions back to her drawings as Alicent continued on. "You're worried your father is about to overshadow you with a son."
Rhaenyra squirmed, Deidre noticed, something she only did when she was uncomfortable. "I only worry for my mother. I hope for my father that he does get a son. As long as I can recall, that's all he's wanted."
"You want him to have a son?" Alicent exchanged a doubtful look with Deidre.
"I want to fly with you two on dragon back, see the wonders across the Narrow Sea, and eat cake."
"I'm being serious." Alicent's face tensed, as her annoyance at the princess grew.
"She never jests about cake." Deidre murmured as she carefully drew a line across Syrax's wing. If the other two heard her, she was ignored.
"You aren't worried about your position?"
"I like this position, its quite comfortable." Rhaenyra avoided Alicent's gaze, glancing down at her necklace.
Pressing her lips together, Alicent closed the history book with a thunk and pushed Rhaenyra up so she could stand.
"Where are you going?" Rhaenyra asked.
"Home. The hour has grown late."
Deidre rose as Rhaenyra did. Rhaenyra then rattled off a summary of the passage like it was nothing, making memorizing the passages seem effortless, a little to Deidre's envy.
"So, you were listening?" Alicent's severe attitude dropped as she smiled. One thing that Deidre had learned early on in her friendship with Alicent, was that Alicent resented idleness and foolishness. She studied hard, she listened well, she watched and observed, and she had little doubt Rhaenyra knew this as well, but the difference between herself and the princess, was that the princess sometimes loved to ignite Alicent's irritation.
"Of course." Rhaenyra smirked as she opened the book in Alicent's hands back up and tore out the last page they'd reviewed.
Alicent gasped. "If the Septa sees this book…"
"Fuck the Septa!" Rhaenyra scoffed.
Deidre couldn't hide her giggle at Alicent's shock as she walked over to their friends.
Trying to hide her smile, Alicent shook her head. "I need to return to my family's rooms to make sure supper is ready for my brothers and father."
"Are you sure you don't want dine with me?" Rhaenyra offered. "Father is likely to take supper at my mother's bedside tonight."
"My family is expecting me." Alicent gave an apologetic smile. "Though I'll see you to break our fast on the morrow, before going to watch the tourney?"
Both the princess and Deidre agreeing with her plans, Alicent bid her two friends good night and hurried off to the Tower of the Hand.
"What of you?" Rhaenyra turned to Deidre and entwined arms her as the girls strolled out of the Godswood.
"I would, though my brother Larys will probably be expecting to sup with me." Deidre shrugged.
Rhaenyra sighed. "Fine. But walk with me back to the holdfast at least."
Deidre laughed. "Alright."
As they strolled along, Deidre studied Rhaenyra's pendant again. "Did you get a new necklace? I don't believe I've seen this one."
Rhaenyra's cheeks colored as she gave a small smile. "My uncle returned to court for the tourney and gifted this to me. Valyrian steel, so I can have a bit of Valyria, like him and Father with Blackfire and Dark Sister."
"It looks lovely." Deidre glanced down at her own rings. "If your uncle has taken leave from his duties with the City Watch, hopefully he took pity on my brother and granted him leave to participate in the tourney as well."
Rhaenyra snickered. "Perhaps, though I heard Daemon is calling his new City Watch hounds, and will probably work them like hounds too." Deidre only hummed at that, quelling the annoyance at her elder brother being likened to a trained dog. Harwin was a dutiful man, but he was knight of the realm, not a hound to be set on wherever his master saw fit.
After Rhaenyra departed for her own rooms, Deidre made her way back to her own family apartments. After making sure supper was set for four, she bathed and changed into a clean dress. She hoped to see all her family at supper, but that had become a rare thing as of late. Her father's work on the small council as the Master of Laws often kept him away late into the night, and since Prince Daemon had taken command of the City Watch, she scarce had seen Harwin either, since he was training so hard or out in the city. It was not uncommon for it to only be her and one of her brothers.
Sure enough, when Deidre arrived in the candle lit dining room, only Larys sat at the table, already set with wine and bread.
"Brother." Deidre smiled as she entered the room. Larys rose from his chair with help of his walking stick and gave her a small bow and smile in turn. "Deidre, it is good to see you this evening."
She chuckled at her brother's exaggerated manner as she poured herself some wine and sat across from him. "You have no need to rise for me. Tis not some feast with the king."
"I always pay my respects to where it is due." Larys said coyly as he resettled himself in his seat, though there was a twinkle in his blue eyes. Deidre smiled back, her eyes bright and gleeful at her brother.
"I take it that we'll be the only ones here for supper this evening." Deidre glanced at the other two set places at the table.
"I suspect." Larys lazily swirled his wine before taking a sip. "No doubt with the tourney tomorrow, Father will be working late. And our dear brother's presence has been about as scarce at court as his commander's since Prince Daemon took charge of the City Watch."
Deidre sighed. She could hardly remember the last time all of them had simply been together, not counting court events. It had been even longer since she'd seen the multitude of their extended family at Harrenhal, including Alys, and the time Deidre had visited her mother's family in the Neck was all but a distant memory.
We've been abandoned, Larys, she thought disdainfully, a touch of dark humor coloring her thoughts. But she would not say it. She wanted this supper to be light and merry as it could be with only the two of them in attendance.
"I'm sure we will see plenty of them tomorrow. Father will go wherever the king is, and Harwin has never been able to stay away from the lists."
The servants came out with grilled pork, onions and greens, fresh bread and fruit for just the two of them. As had become a familiar custom by now, Larys and Deidre discussed various herbs they had found around the gardens and courtyards of the keep, as well as Larys conveying the latest court gossip.
"Surely you don't hear all this down in the dungeons working as a confessor." Deidre chuckled. "How do you always seem to know the best gossip?"
"I just know how to listen sister." Larys smirked as he bit into some pork.
"And who do you listen to?"
"Anyone, No one." He waved his hand, though there was a glint in his blue eyes.
Deidre raised her brow in curiosity but did not question her brother further. She loved Larys though he did have a penchant to be odd at times, speaking in riddles as he did.
"Have you written to Alys at all recently?"
Deidre looked down in guilt. "Not in the past few moons, no." Alys sent her letters a least once a moon's turn, speaking to Deidre of conditions in the Riverlands, herb lore, the folk she'd treated, the antics of their extended Strong family and babes born within Harrenhal's walls that she'd nursed. Those letters Deidre always appreciated and treasured. They made her feel closer to home, as Alys was the closest she'd had to a mother. But then Alys would ask Deidre of her dreams, of what she'd heard, in the wind, in the rain, in the fire, in the trees?
Nothing. Nothing since her sister fell. She'd prayed to the old gods in the day and the night, and nothing of the cryptic riddles that Alys would write of.
"You should. She does miss you dearly and dreams of a visit from us."
"What?"
Larys studied Deidre before he slowly picked up a raspberry and rolled it in his fingers. "She simply longs to see her family. It has been years since we've been back home."
"King's Landing is our home." Deidre looked down at the table with a sigh. "Father's place is here, and our place is with father." Until he marries us off like prized pigs headed for the slaughter.
"It's home of beloved royal family." Larys chuckled. "And we are here to a serve them at the king's pleasure."
They ate in silence with little conversation the rest of dinner before Larys excused himself to go for one of his customary evening walks. Alone, Deidre pulled out her treasured paints and set back to work on the portrait she'd been working on for Rhaenyra's name day, still yet a few moons away. She'd saved up an expensive dye with gold dust mixed in it for Syrax's scales. Closing her eyes, she recalled the dragon's hide sparkling in the sun, the hidden gold flecks in her eyes.
Deidre painted well into the hours of the night, working by candlelight in the darkness. She didn't even notice when the servants left for the night.
"My girl, what are you still doing up at this hour?"
Deidre's trance broke as she looked up to see the shadowy figure of her father in the edge of her circle of flickering candle light. "Father! I'm sorry, I didn't realize how late-"
"No matter." Lyonel waved her off as he approached. His brown hair was ruffled, he had dark circles under his eyes, and he'd taken off his overcoat and amulet, both carelessly hanging over his arm. Deidre frowned as he placed a hand on her shoulder and studied her canvas. "What are you working on?" His blue eyes scanned her half-colored portrait of Syrax critically.
"Tis a name day present for the princess."
"So, this is what you wanted that expensive paint for?" Lyonel smiled at the dragon scales glittering in the candlelight. "Very fine work, girl." He squeezed her shoulder but then frowned. "Though I'd advise you stop for the night to salvage what few hours of sleep you can before the tourney tomorrow. Both of us will be expected to be in the royal box early, and you will need to look fresh faced sitting next to the princess. None will turn an eye towards me if I looked like I just rolled out of bed," He chuckled good naturedly.
Deidre turned; her brow furrowed. "Father, am I the only who needs more sleep?" She grabbed his hand. "I see little of you anymore. Perhaps…"
Deidre bit her lip, wondering if she should dare ask her father if they could go home. If just for a bit. Larys had been right. It had been years since they had returned to Harrenhal, seen their extended family, Alys, Dyana…
"The Crown has had much need of me in my post as of late."
They always have need of you. The traitorous thought whispered in Deidre's mind. That is how it had always been, ever since Father had been called to King's Landing to serve the Realm as Master of Laws. And Larys had been put to service for the Realm as a confessor, Harwin a lieutenant of the City Watch, and Deidre and her sisters as ladies in waiting to the princess. They had hardly gathered as a family since, except when one of them perished in that service to the Crown and Realm.
Our family needs you. I need you, she wanted to say, to turn to him and stare up at him until he'd studied the look on her face and memorized it by heart.
The sliver of resentment and hurt must have shown on her face, for Lyonel sighed, shook his head, and brushed her hair back. "Deidre, we are Strongs, and have long served the Realm and Crown whenever called upon. Loyalty and service are the foundations our house stands on, and we must uphold those, no matter the sacrifice."
Deidre accepted her father's words quietly as a daughter should, and then did as her father bid, storing her paints and canvas and making for bed. But she could not get his words from her mind. Clad only in her gown, she pushed aside the curtains of her bed chamber window and stared down upon the massive sprawl of King's Landing below.
Even during the hour of the wolf, the city never rested, a thousand little lights in the darkness, a buzz with noise, a thick blanket of humidity and stink hanging over head, only broken by an occasional sea breeze. As the wind rustled her brown curls, Deidre closed her eyes and thought of Harrenhal. Only two of the towers twinkled with sparse torchlight, leaving the rest of the castle to the darkness and the wilds. The massive godwood smelled of damp earth and moss, a breeze of the lake rustling the blood leaves of the massive weirwood, the gods whispering of their isle of faces just across the God's Eye nearby. The heart tree's carved, weeping face glowed red in pale bone bark, silver in the moonlight. The God's Eye lay as a smooth plane of silver, the sacred isle hidden among its mists.
Deidre opened her eyes and fiddled with the ghost orchid rings on her fingers. The Riverlands was House Strong's home, not this city ruled by Dragons. They were first men, born of the river, fire, wind, earth, from the lands the old gods ruled, and her father had forgotten that.